The Taste of Murder
by Rolletti
Summary: The rumors of revenge, torture, and death chill the bones of Narnia's enemies.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Taste of Murder

Author: Rolletti

This story takes place during the Golden Age.

Sorry for the mistakes, something ate all the beta's.

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

The Taste of Murder: Chapter One

"Get in there you scum,"said the kidnapper as he shoved his bound prisoners through the door. The hidden structure was so overgrown with vines, you couldn't see it until you were near enough to touch it.

"You need some manners on how to treat a lady," said the only male as he jumped high with a twist, and kicked the man in the chest for shoving his sisters.

"Galenor! I see you've finally arrived with the spoils. Yes, and feisty ones too, aye?" laughed the ample boisterous man as he slapped Galenor on the back after helping him to his feet.

"They've been trouble since we've seized them. That one there, she cost me three men. The little brat had countless knives secretly on her person. Watch her closely, she's a devil of a cuss."

"The eldest of the females is quite a beauty. We'll get three times as much for her."

"Ahh, a sight for starving eyes, that one. She should bring a handsome price," said Galenor as he stroked her cheek with longing. Before the man could utter another word, he screamed in agony as the vision of beauty turned her head with lightening speed, clamping her jaw around his finger, drawing blood. Her male companion sent him sprawling as he jumped and kicked him hard in the back.

"Will _**somebody**_ bind his feet!" Galenor screamed from the ground.

"Ha, my friend, they _are_ feisty indeed," said the older man as he helped his business partner off the floor again. His laughter faltered as he took a closer look at the children. A crease drew his brows together as he tried to recall something.

"Galenor? Where exactly did these children come from?"

"I went far to look for fresh spoils this time," he said as he wiped the blood off his nose. "It didn't matter before where I got them. Why do you ask? "

The icy fingers of recognition intertwined in Fernan memory as his arrogance took flight.

"Hey, shouted Galenor as he snatched his arm away from Fernan. "Dash it all, you're digging into my arm. Is it not enough I've suffered at the hands _**AND,**_" he turned to the fifteen year old boy,__"feet of these swamp rats?"

"Galenor."

"What's the matter with you? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Galenor, think. Think, hard," said Fernan, blinking wildly as he broke out into a sweat. "From where did you find these children?"

"I found these three in the woods with their pets, further north in the wild country. There were quite a few of those rotten mongrels, very protective.

"YOU IDIOT!" shouted Fernan as he struck Galenor with the back of his hand.

"What did I do? You said we needed fresh slaves to sell, so I got fresh slaves! If you ask me, these three look rather unique. You yourself said they'd fetch a high price."

Fernan ignored him as he walked closer to the children, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Please, tell me your name."

"My name, you pitiful excuse of a man, is Edmund."

"Edmund," said Fernan simultaneously.

"How did you know his name?" questioned Galenor.

"BECAUSE HE FITS THE DESCRIPTION YOU EMBICILE!"

"Description, what description?" asked Galenor, his breathing increasing in fear as he looked from Edmund to Fernan.

"This is King Edmund, and his sisters the Queens of Narnia. When have you ever seen skin that fair? Huh? Only the Narnian royals you…we're dead. We are all dead because of _**you**_! Don't stand there gaping like a lost Yerkul. Haven't you heard the stories? There is another, their brother the High King of Narnia. Everyone from unknown lands and back knows how he feels about these three." Clenching his teeth, Fernan stepped closer as he lowered his voice, gaining Galenor's full attention. "He's murderous. He's known for hunting down and killing those responsible for his missing brother. Not only do we have his brother, but his sisters too," he said as he walked toward Lucy highly distressed. "Look at her. That's his baby, his baby sister. Don't you know how boys feel about their baby sisters?"

"I don't give a carcass about mine," Galenor grumbled.

"Well, the High King of Narnia does, genius!" Fernan screamed hysterically.

"No, they can't be," said Galenor as he shook his head slowly, cowering towards the thirteen year old Lucy.

"Is it true? You, you belong to," he swallowed hard, "him?"

"You're a dead man walking," she said, piercing the soul of the man who killed her subjects.

Fernan ran into a room, returning with an empty bag.

"Wait, what are you doing?" asked Galenor frantically as he watched Fernan and his men pack their belongings in haste.

"What does it look like we're doing? We're getting out of here. Listen, I want no part of this madness. The further the miles are between me and these royals the better, I don't want to wake in the middle of having my throat slit." Covered in a good dose of fear, Fernan looked around confirming he had what little there was. "Did you know that is his signature mark when rescuing, or avenging his loved ones? He doesn't have mercy and run his victims through. No, he goes mad, and slices into their flesh, leaving them to die slowly in agony as their life's blood soaks the earth beneath them. Some say he burn the bodies before they draw their last breath. Go ahead, ask him, ask his brother if the rumors are true, go ahead."

"Well, what am I to do with them?"

"They're your problem, not mine," said Fernan, almost too afraid to look at the Narnians. He stopped at the door before exiting and said to his friend with sympathy, "You took all that is precious from the High King of Narnia. He's coming."

"But Fernan..."

"Good bye my friend."

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Taste of Murder

Author: Rolletti

This story takes place during the Golden Age.

Sorry for the mistakes, something ate all the beta's.

**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

I saw this disclaimer on someone's story and thought it a good idea to put on my own: _I've read so much that I hope I didn't steal something from someone's story. If I did please accept my apology. _

No Slash What So Ever

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

The Taste of Murder Chapter 2

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," said the Gorilla who served as butler of Cair Paravel. He bowed respectfully when the High King stepped through the door.

"Thank you, Moem," said Peter, as he gave him his cloak. "I'm starved. Please tell the King and Queens I'll join them for dinner after I've cleaned up."

"They and their escorts have not returned from their picnic with the Darby Raccoon family as of yet, Your Majesty."

"In that case, I'll be ready when they arrive," smiled Peter.

Climbing the wide majestic stairs of Cair Paravel Peter Pevensie paused. He tilted his head as he thought about the hour and his family whereabouts.

"Ah, Your Majesty, you've returned quite early."

"Hello Mr. Tumnus," smiled Peter as he joined the Faun at the top of the landing. "It isn't early, it's dinner time."

"Yes, but Queen Lucy told me you were talking to the Elephants about creating new roads in the south. I've experienced the long sessions with the Elephants when they all gather. They like to voice their opinions, and drudge up past issues before they can solely concentrate on the matters at hand," said Tumnus with a tilt to his head.

Peter's brows went up in agreement. "Well then, you know what kind of day I've had," he clapped Tumnus on the shoulder. "I'm going to wash up before my family arrives."

"Your Majesty," bowed Tumnus to Peter's retreating form.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNn**_

The family's private dining room was filled with sunshine as the birds outside the castle took full advantage of it. They twittered and tweeted, hopped and flew from branch to branch during their song and dance. Happy songs always greeted a monarch who arrived safely, and was loved in return for the sentiment. Peter stood on the ornate balcony smiling as a Bee Humming Bird sat on his finger welcoming him home. With a leap it flew around his head a few times before it hovered in front of him with a bow. Within a blink of an eye, the little jeweled blur was gone.

"Where are they," said Peter cheerfully as he watched the maids set the table for dinner. "I can't wait to show Susan what I came home with. It's a gift I'm sure she'll love," he expressed to Tumnus. "You'll stay for dinner won't you?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. I only wish I could have joined your brother and sisters on their picnic."

"Yes, so do I. I almost gave in to Lucy's pleadings this afternoon. She knows exactly which heart strings to pull. Just one little pout reduces me to do her bidding. If it wasn't for Susan coming to my rescue, I would have been led by the prettiest baby sister to a nice and relaxing picnic."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I wasn't aware that you _knew_ of queen Lucy's tactics," Tumnus grinned.

Peter blushed, "Yes, I do indulge her a bit more than I should, but," he sighed, "she possessed my heart from the moment she first opened her newborn eyes."

"She does have that effect on everyone," said Tumnus.

"Mmm, I'm so hungry, and the food looks delicious. I wonder what's keeping them?" said Peter as he took a hot buttered roll from the bread basket. "Please, have one, Mr. Tumnus, and I promise not to tell Susan if _you_ promise not to tell Susan," Peter said jokingly. Everyone knew of the queen's non-tolerance of picking at the food before it's served, and the High King's habit of doing just so.

"No thank you, Your Majesty, I'd like to stay on the queen's good side," laughed Tumnus.

"Alright, I'll have yours, and I still ask you not to tell," Peter said with a grin. "Have a seat, Mr. Tumnus and tell me what you have been up to. I haven't seen you in court lately."

"I was away visiting my cousin. There is a new addition in the family, and I wanted to give the baby a gift."

"Please tell her I said congratulation. Does she need anything?"

"Oh, you are most kind, but your sisters sent me baring wonderful gifts from your family already."

"I am not surprised, sir, not at all. My sisters are always a step ahead of me in that regard. Well, did she have a boy or girl?"

"A boy. His name is Haren, and the Queens sent an engraved silver rattle in your name as a gift for him," smiled Tumnus.

"Gentle and Valiant indeed," said Peter as his eyes sparkled.

Peter looked around the private room reserved for family and intimate friends. He saw signs of his siblings everywhere; Edmund's judicial robe, Susan's thimble, and Lucy's slippers donned with her favorite color ribbons.

"Mr. Tumnus, I think I shall have a cabin built. I'd like it to be someplace different, to take my family on a vacation of sorts. Because we live by the sea maybe the mountains would be a choice location. I only request that it be near a lake so Edmund and I can go fishing. Would you like to oversee that project?"

"It would be an honor, Your Majesty," beamed Tumnus.

"It would be good for them, don't you think?"

"I'm sure they will be well pleased, well pleased indeed."

Peter imagined the excited look on their faces when they heard the news. Edmund will whoop and holler, Lucy will squeal with delight while jumping up and down, and dear sweet Susan will smile brightly and give him a hug.

The room was beginning to look dimmer as the sun moved closer to its resting place. Peter listened for the sounds of his family footfalls, and Susan reprimanding Lucy for running, but it never came.

"I'm often accused for being overprotective by my family. And I am trying my best to remain calm, but it's getting late and they are not home."

Poor Tumnus began to twitch. That twitch quickly turned into a nervous outbreak with the king's sudden display of agitation. He'd rather be anyplace other than with the High King when he started to worry about one or all of his siblings. Secretly, he too believed the High King to be overly concerned about the three younger royals on a regular basis.

"You know how charming the queens are, maybe they were delayed by extra visitors in the surrounding area," said Tumnus as he watched Peter's foot start to tapping.

"Perhaps," but Peter rose and began pacing with his hands held behind his back. Back and forth he went treading across the beautiful rugs Susan had chosen for the room. He walked to the door, to the balcony, and back to his seat. He tapped his fingers on his knees before starting the whole trek over again.

Tumnus started to tremble when he saw Peter pinch the bridge of his nose. "Would you like some water to drink,Your Majesty?" he asked as he tried to still his trembling hands.

Just then doors burst open with Oreius carrying a badly bleeding Squirrel.

"What is it, what happened?" demanded Peter as he ran to the injured.

"Your Majesty," the Squirrel could barely talk, "I was with Your Majesties at the picnic, southwest of here," the usually high energetic creature began speaking slower, softer, losing consciousness as he continued to bleed on the rugs, "at Raccoon village."

"What happened Good Squirrel, where are my brother and sisters?" asked Peter on the edge.

"Gone, kidnapped, everyone else…is…dead," said the Squirrel as he breathed his last, the light forever gone from his eyes.

Those who stood in the High Kings presence feared for their king. Never had they seen the blood rush out of his face to that degree. Oreius had. He witnessed it each time his brother, or once before, when all the younger monarchs were taken. The shock overwhelmed him as he saw his king stumble back, overturning chairs as his legs were too weak to hold him from the blow.

One of the guards rushed to help Peter, but he refused as hyperventilation began to set in. Oreius quickly grabbed a linen napkin and dunked it in the pitcher of water. Just as he expected, the king was so overwhelmed he couldn't breathe. Coughing out of control, Peter received a shocking cold cloth caressing his face.

"ASLAN Noooooooo!" Peter screamed wretchedly from his knees. The chords strained from his neck as he gnashed his teeth, his fingers drew blood from the palm of his hands.

"Everybody out!" commanded Oreius.

"Your Majesty," said everyone as they bowed before retreating, taking the dead body of their faithful friend with them.

"Oreius, my subjects, my family," cried Peter as Oreius caught the struggling king. Although he had a reputation for being iron-handed, he was affectionately gentle as he held his grieving sovereign.

Tumnus slowly closed the door with angry tears trailing as he and Oreius made eye contact.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNnNnNnNnNn **_

"A Hare, a Hare approaches!" cried the sentry on duty.

"Open the gates let him through! You, get some water, he looks in bad shape," shouted the captain of the guards.

Everyone surrounded the bloody Hare who leaned against a supporting guard. His eyes crazed as he struggled to catch his breath. A tin of water was pushed at him, and he drank long and deep, much to everyone's agitated anticipation.

"Brother Hare, please tell us the news. The Good Squirrel has just come and told us of the killing and kidnappings. Sadly he just died," said the captain.

"Pray for deliverance for our king and queens. And may Aslan receive our brothers and sisters of Narnia into his country. Dead, they're all dead. I barely escaped with my life, but not before I scratched the eyes out of one of them. Our Valiant Queen silenced him with her knife to his throat as he stood there screaming." The loyal cheered for their fearless queen, not to be taken without a fight.

"I know the way back. Just give me a minute to catch my breath, and I will show the king," said the brave Hare who risked his life for his sovereigns.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNnNnNnNn**_

Oreius knew the precise moment the iron entered the High King's soul. He felt it, and when he looked into his eyes he saw it. Not many will be joining him on this hunt, for a hunt it is. His subjects who he loved dear to his heart were dead. His family, who are the most precious in his life, were stolen from him. A demon born from malice and pain rose from the grave of despair. His eyes roamed the room, but stopped at the cloak, thimble and slippers. With a slight nod of his head, Oreius acknowledged that the demon will bathe in the blood of those responsible for his birth.

The Hare led the king and a few of his soldiers to the carnage. Bodies of Animals and men alike were strewn amongst broken porcelain ware and picnic blankets; a cruel interruption of a pleasurable excursion. The Hare stood next to the king as he described what had happened.

"We were having a wonderful time, Your Majesty. Praise Aslan King Edmund sent the Raccoon Kits home with the elder siblings to get a head start. I am forever grateful they were not killed."

Peter shook his head, "Go on Good Hare, tell me the rest," said Peter, his jaw was constantly working as his hand gripped Rhindon. He relaxed his grip, and then gripped it again. Released, tightened, released, tightened as he noticed the nervous twitch of the Hare's ears and whiskers. "There is something you are not telling me," he said, void of expression.

The Hare switched nervously from one foot to the other. Like a victim trapped in the hypnotic gaze of a snake, so was the Hare unable to remove his eyes from the king's.

"King Edmund and Queen Susan and Lucy did not go without a fight. They fought well as if in battle against the White Witch, but the men where big and brutal. One barbarian, disgusting as he was, dared to…touch Queen Susan. He pinned her arms, and pulled her close as he tried to kiss her. He's that one over there. King Edmund thoroughly crushed his Adam's apple for taking such liberties."

Released, tightened, released, tightened, released, tightened.

"Another grabbed and pulled Queen Lucy up by her hair, laughing as if someone told a good joke. I blinded him as I scratched and bit his eyes out, and Queen Lucy imbedded her knife in his throat. She also killed three others; one, she stabbed in the throat and heart, and the other was quite surprised as he tried to stop his entrails from spilling through his fingers; she sliced him from end to end in one fluid motion. The Valiant dropped another as she threw her knife into the man's chest. That's him at your feet."

Peter looked curiously at the dead man. "I wonder…How did the queen obtain such skills?" inquired Peter as he looked at Oreius and his captains. Each one immediately looked at something far off, or something _very_ interesting. "I see. Don't tell Susan," he said with a dark smile as he pulled the knife out of the cad's body.

"The leader grabbed Queen Lucy, and held a knife to her throat. It was the only way he could get King Edmund and Queen Susan to stop killing his men," finished the rabbit as his ears drooped.

"Bury our friends…burn the rest," commanded Peter.

"Some of the men are still alive. Barely, but alive," said a cougar.

"Burn them anyway."

Released, tightened, released, tightened, released, tightened.

"Your Majesty," said Oreius cautiously.

"They will die slowly. Slow enough to feel hell come to them.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNnNnNn**_

In the treacherous lair strategically covered in vines, tension grew amongst those who committed an abominable act against Narnia. Half of Galenor's men grew increasingly afraid of the rumors of the High King. Although no one mentioned it, each wondered at the attitudes of the children. They were not nervous or afraid. They stood there bound as if they were free with no worries. One who stood among the concerned men was Galenor's very own brother.

Galenor himself grew nervous, but greed held a greater power over him. Sweating profusely, whether it was from the forest or fear, Galenor wiped his face with his dirty sleeve.

"What should we do with them?" asked Galenor to no one in particular. "Maybe we should split them up, you know, make it harder for him if he catch up. Which do you think is his favorite?"

"Galenor, I can't, I can't do this anymore. I'm leaving."

"What, you would betray me too? My own brother? Traitor! "

"I've heard the rumors myself too. He becomes something evil when harm comes to these three. We don't know these lands, these people. Look at their skin, look at his! Who can be so pale yet live? Maybe they are not children, but ghost like mythical creatures who belong to him. Maybe that is why he becomes evil."

Edmund rolled his eyes in exasperation as he looked at the girls. If anything he caused Lucy to grin in their dank, grey environment. Their eldest brother's dark reputation among thieves was quite entertaining. Edmund didn't know how, but he needed to get himself and the girls out of situation they were in. He was bound tight which made it difficult to get at his hidden knife.

"You sound like an idiot Layen," said Galenor.

"Well I know this my brother. We took them from their own home, right from under the High King's nose, surely he's looking for them by now. When he find you and see that you are responsible… that one right there I believe is called, the Gentle..."

"The Gentle? Did you see what she did to me!" Galenor growled as he thrust his poorly bandaged finger at his brother.

"Obviously she's a warrior in her own right. You saw her out there. Listen, I want no part in this. As of now, I'll be looking over my shoulders for the rest of my life. They are not worth it."

"I agree with your brother, Galenor. I don't know about the others, but I'm leaving too. I met a man once, the lone survivor of their kidnapping years ago. His face is disfigured, void of skin. He said that the High King's eyes are so cold, they reach deep into your soul and devour what little life is left once he is through with you. His life was spared to serve as a warning.

"I heard he's a man that can change forms, and that's how he kills his enemies," said a man with a bad smelling eye patch.

"Well, I heard he captured a man, and splayed him…alive," said another. Mumbling between the men erupted.

"I heard he's not a man at all, but a protector of these very three come back from the dead," said a man wearing a raccoon's tail attached to his hat.

"Will you just listen to yourselves? You sound ridiculous! I'm beginning to think there is no threat after all. It's probably a bunch of stories your gran made up for ya while sewing ya skirts!"

"Please Galenor, abandon this, leave them," said, Layen.

"Don't you understand, if we sell them, we'll be rich beyond our wildest dreams. The wench alone will fetch a high price. We'll desire everything, and lack nothing," Galenor elbowed his brother while raising his brows in succession. "Come brother, I promise this will be our last."

Layen nodded his head in agreement and sorrow. "You're right, it _will_ be your last.

"You imbecile, listen to your brother!" said Edmund. "Did I just say that?" whispered Edmund to his sisters in surprise.

"That's enough cheek from you," shouted Galenor.

"You, sir, are a fool!" exclaimed Edmund through clenched teeth.

"I'm a fool am I? Well I guess I should foolishly take little missy here…"

Susan bravely stood between Galenor and Lucy. "If you touch her, I promise you the High King isn't the only one you'll have to fear," said Susan, which caused him to draw back instantly from the gentle _bound_ queen.

"Easy brother, I caution you they are not worth it."

Galenor raised his chin keeping eye contact with Susan a moment longer. Wisely, he retreated from Susan with pure filth dripping from his lips. Walking past Edmund was a mistake. Although having his hands and feet bound, Edmund's head butt caused Galenor to see stars as he wobbled away screaming.

"You _will_ take heed of your language, sir, in the presence of my queens," growled Edmund.

Galenor started to run towards Edmund for retribution, but was seized by his brother.

"Listen to me," he said, as Galenor fought against him. "listen! This madness must end.

"You disgust me. You want to leave, then leave! But don't come running to me when you're half starved!" screamed Galenor to his brother's retreating back with half his men.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNnNnNnNnNn**_

Melin thought he'd increase his chances of getting home alive if he separated from the group. Breathless, he thought he had made the wrong decision. His skin crawled as he had the uneasy feeling of someone following him. There were many tales about the High King of Narnia back at the hiding place. Some sounded farfetched, others sounded true, but they all came to one conclusion; he was deranged, cold, and deadly when it came to those three obsessions.

So were the thoughts of Melin as he ran through the woods, hid behind bushes, and jumped over bubbling brooks. His chest rose and fell heavily as he came to a stop and stood behind a tree. Temporarily blinded by the sweat in his eyes, Melin listened for approaching footsteps. To his terror he couldn't hear anything due to the demands of his lungs, and the powerful thumping of his heart.

Melin hesitated before he leaned around the tree, scoping the woods. It was sufficient to say that something was out there, or someone. He refused to move, he would wait until he could confirm there was a threat. Closing his eyes he leaned his forehead against the tree, willing his heart to slow down. Calming himself to think reasonably, Melin once again peeked around the tree to confirm he was alone. He listened intently for anything unusual; a snapping twig, the sudden flight of birds; on and off the ground. Nothing. Satisfied that he may have been running from the results of paranoia, Melin took a deep breath to steady himself. The paragon in the form of a High King may not exist as Galenor suggested, it may all be only a ruse like many tales of the trade. Melin began to doubt his decision to leave. He forfeited his share of selling those brats to the highest bidder.

His thoughts were interrupted by an expected sound beyond his tree. Ever so slowly, he peeked around the tree. He heard the sound again, and found himself relieved as he saw another branch fall from a distant tree, the results of two squirrels chasing each other. There were some thick bushes twenty paces off, and to hide there for the night would be most welcoming. He couldn't run any longer, and began to feel deep in his gut he had made a mistake by leaving Galenor. Leaning his head against the tree again, Melin turned around and came face to face with a boy on the very doorstep of manhood. Facing those cold blue eyes immediately caused Melin's bladder to lose control. If Melin was acquainted with Narnia, he would have noticed the larger squirrels were Narnian Squirrels…a decoy.

"I didn't touch them, I didn't touch them, I didn't touch them," said the man shaking on his way down to kneel in his own urine. "Please have mercy," he said right before he foolishly lunged with his sword in hand.

Sparks flew as steel immediately met steel. Melin fought hard with years of skill to his credit against the mere child, yet, he felt as if he was merely being toyed with. With a sudden move he was incapable of explaining, Melin found himself on his back with the air knocked out of his lungs.

With Peter's sword at his throat the kidnapper braced himself for the farfetched stories to come true. After a moment of silence he slowly opened eyes to find his opponent kneeling next to him, his sword in position to cut his throat from ear to ear.

"I will make you a promise." Melin heard from the boy with the odd color hair, ready to hear the gruesome sentencing.

"I am the High King of Narnia, and you have something of mine. If you tell me where my brother and sisters are, and who is responsible for their kidnapping, I promise you, you will not die by my sword this day."

"Www, www, what about tomorrow or the next?"

"You will never die by my sword, my hands, nor will my people seek revenge. All I ask is for you to cooperate. My brother and sisters, are they well?"

"Yes, your majesty. That is, they were when I saw them last. They are not allowed to sit, but they are well."

"Good, you are doing well. Who took them and why?"

All was explained by Melin, names were given, the location of where his siblings where kept, and the route to the slave market. Every detail spilled from his lips as he lay staring into dead eyes.

"Thank you."

"Thank you for sparing my life," said Melin relieved as he tried to follow Peter up, but the point of Rhindon's sharpened end prevented that. "No, no you promised!"

"I said you will not die by my sword, my hands, nor my people."

Confusion was written on the kidnappers face, but he soon gasped in fright.

What appeared to be a thick, meaty black spider, crawled across the contorted face of Melin. His face twitched uncontrollably as his body lay frozen.

Melin watched as the spider crawled over his face as if it was seeking for something. He saw his reflection in the eyes of the hideous creature, venom dripping from its fangs. Quick as a lightening strike, the spider struck as it sunk it's fangs into the fleshiest part of Melin's cheek. The pain was excruciating, if the high pitch of his voice was any indication.

"This area is known for the Kelma spiders. Their bite is extremely painful, which you already know," said Peter after the scream turned into a whimper and tears. "And no doubt you have already experienced the effect of the venom. It leaves you paralyzed for two hours, your muscles are no doubt painfully locked in place," he informed as he removed his sword from Melin's neck, and casually used it to flick a Kelma off his boot.

"This type of spider is interesting. They lay their eggs once a year into the flesh of a host," said Peter, void of expression. The man screamed as the spider started the process of injecting its eggs into his cheek. "You'll know when the eggs hatch. The spiderlings eat their way out. You have twenty days."

The leaves rustled as three additional spiders crawled from underneath and across Melin's face. Peter walked away as fresh screams pierced the air, and closed his eyes as he faltered with sorrow. Behind his lids he saw his siblings bound and dead. When he opened his eyes they were cold once more.

The hunt continues.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNn**_

Is the content too dark? I would like to know if it is, or if it is feasible to continue the story.

Rolletti


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.  
**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

I saw this disclaimer on someone's story and thought it a good idea to put on my own: _I've read so much that I hope I didn't steal something from someone's story. If I did please accept my apology.  
_No Slash What So Ever  
Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

The Taste of Murder Chapter 3

Lucy stood between her siblings and began to sniffle. The torch light revealed the glistened trail that ran down her saddened face. She gained the attention of more men as her sniffles became louder. There was a look of satisfaction among them to see at least _one_ of the children break. It was said time and time again their attitudes were too much on the cocky side, and they should be taught a lesson. Edmund immediately hopped closer as did Susan.

Galenore watched in disgust. He hated the three, but did not restrain the older siblings as they tried to comfort their younger sister. With satisfaction, he too relished the presence of her tears as puffed out his chest victoriously.

"What's wrong, Lu? Are you alright? Are you tired?" asked Susan.

"No," she pouted. Both Susan and Edmund smirked. Lucy had something up her sleeves. Her cute little irresistible pouts were reserved for Peter or Edmund, or Peter _**and**_ Edmund. She did not waste them.

"It's only…I feel sorry for these men. Peter will seek his vengeance and lay claim to their souls," she whispered just enough for listening ears to hear.

"There, there now Lu, don't allow yourself to become distressed over these men. They are vile, vulgar creatures," said Susan.

"I just can't bear the thought of seeing Peter as he was the last time someone kidnapped us. If you recall, he ripped out that man's heart with his bare hands and forced him to eat it. The poor man was barely alive when Peter forced the heart down his throat. He didn't die from a missing heart, he choked to death. And his poor soul, what he did to his soul I…I just can't bear to speak of it."

"True," said Susan with her bound hands to her chest as she played along.

"But that was a merciful death compared to what he did to that man who held me prisoner," said Edmund, exaggerating with his eyebrows. When he lowered his voice he saw the men lean in further. "He made sure not to kill my captor as he cut the top of his head off. When Peter put those flesh-eating worms on that man's exposed brain and smashed the top on as he replaced it, oh the horror! Worms exited that man's eyes while he laid there screaming and twitching."

Suddenly, the three entertainers jumped in surprise when they saw two men running to the door screaming, "I won't stay!" "He won't take me!" Lucy leaned further into Edmunds chest crying, her shoulders shook for all to see. In reality, she was actually laughing to the point of hysterics as she wailed. Edmund had to pretend to hold a sympathetic kiss on the top of her head as a show of support. He too tried to control the smile that threatened to break. Susan shoulders too shook as she covered her face with her bound hands.

Clearly shaken, Galenor told the royals to, "Shut up!" and ordered his men into another room.

Susan found it hard to regain control of herself. She wiped away the humorous tears as Edmund kissed Lucy's cheek.

"I say, Lu," he whispered softly, "You have my vote when you propose to form the first Narnian Theatrical Society.

"Mine too, and so will Peter when he hears about this," grinned Susan.

"Go you two, and sit in that corner. I don't care what that idiot says about standing here," said Edmund to his sisters. "It's getting late and you've been standing almost two days."

"What about you?" asked Susan.

"Don't worry about me. Now, do as I say, and take Lu over to that corner and get some rest."

The girls looked wearily at each other, "No, we won't go without you," said Lucy very convincing as she pulled out her secret weapon. Susan smirked as Edmund watched Lucy, knowing his resolve would soon crumble the harder he tried to resist.

"Oh, alright," he said as he rolled his eyes. Slowly, he allowed the girls to guide him.

"Lean against me, Ed, and we'll kneel down together," said Susan to her extra bound brother. With Edmund in the middle, the three leaned their backs against the wall with a sigh of relief. Edmund desperately wished his hands were free so he could wrap his arms around his sisters and pull them close. As time passed listening to the muffled sounds of Galenor, both girls laid their heads to rest on Edmund's shoulders.

After hearing the third worried sigh from her brother, Lucy looked up and said, "I miss him too."

"Having an overprotective big brother comes in handy at times, wouldn't you say?" said Edmund trying to lighten the mood for his sister.

"It's alright, Ed," said Lucy as she saw Edmund's shoulders fall.

"I hate to imagine what his soul went through when he heard the news," said Edmund. Lucy shivered at that, causing Edmund to look at her. "His…condition…will be most disturbing when he arrives."

"He'll be blood thirsty."

"Beyond blood thirsty, he'll be unrestrained," he whispered looking into her eyes. "I don't want you nor Susan watching, Lu, when he confronts Galenor," warned Edmund.

"Oh, Ed, our poor Peter. I'm most afraid for him when he posses such wild, brutal power. He'll need all of us with him the first few days back, but afterwards,"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of him," said Edmund. "Sshh don't cry, with Aslan's help we'll see him through. Now follow Susan's example, and try to get some sleep.

She sniffled as she laid her head down again and whispered, "Yes, Edmund."

After an hour had passed, Galenor kicked the man who had fallen asleep. It was his job to keep watch over the prisoners.

"Who said you could sit!" shouted Galenor when he returned from encouraging his remaining men.

"Shhh!" exclaimed Edmund with fire in his eyes.

"Don't you, shh me, you little swamp rat! I ain't one of your flea bittin subjects."

"Thank Aslan for that!" said Edmund quietly, seething as he continued to stare.

"You…wha', Aslan…I didn't tell ye to sit down!"

"They are asleep. I know it's hard for you to comprehend this, but have some respect for the ladies."

"After what they did to my men, AND me, they don't deserve respect. Pretty little girls fighting like a gang of cut throats!" growled Galenor.

"You will respect my queens now or later, but I promise you, before my brother introduce you to death, you will learn to respect them."

Although his hands and feet were bound, Edmund knew exactly how he would cave in Galenor's sinus cavities if he touched the girls, and Galenor saw it in Edmund's cold dark eyes.

Working his jaw to the point of pain, Galenor turned to walk away, not willing to engage himself into a fight with that "demon from the pit." Curiosity stopped him before he took a step further.

"Answer me this. How is it you have two queens? Why does a land require two kings and two queens?" asked Galenor with a sneer.

"Don't try to understand it, you'll only hurt yourself," said Edmund resting his head on Lucy's, dismissing Galenor.

"You and me, boy, you and me.

Hours later the three Narnians watched as two big ruffians approached them. The hour was late. They hoped they'd have more down time before having to deal with their prisoners.

You, come with us," they said before they dug their fingers in and grabbed Edmund by his arms.

"Where are you taking him?" demanded Susan.

"None of your business," the man said before he slapped her across the face. Unfortunately for him Susan retaliated immediately by kicking him hard, precisely to the knees. His scream echoed off the walls as he heard the audible _crack_. As he was rushing towards the ground in extreme agony, Edmund swung his combined fist with an amazing amount of force to the bandit's face. Of course his mate rushed to help, but Lucy took him out with a kick to the unmentionables, and finished with a powerful high kick to the jaw. Galenor came into the room roaring in anger as he watched his men squirming around on the floor.

What is going on! Why did you attack my men, you mangy mongrels?" Before they could answer he kicked the man who was screaming uncontrollably, "Quiet, you idiot, get up! The boy is bound and they are two little girls…in dresses. GET UP!" he screamed, taking his anger out on the man as he continued to kick him.

"I think the eldest girl broke his knees. I heard a loud crack."

"He should not have slapped her," said Edmund coiled, ready to strike. "Be careful, Galenor, remember my warning," he said as Galenor continued to look at Susan in anger.

"Who are you people? Even grown men fear Galenor!"

"We are children of Aslan, we fear no one," said Lucy with her chin raised proudly.

"Aslan, Aslan, who the bloody blazes is this ASLAN?" Galenor shouted.

Edmund swung his bound wrist once again with enough force to knock Galenor's head against the wall.

"Language!" shouted Edmund.

_**NnNnNnNnNnNn**_

Peter ran, ran as fast as he could to reach his siblings. His breathing was labored as everything seemed to slow down, down, down. Even the pace and sound of his heartbeat coincide with his struggle to move. His muscles strained against the thickness of his surroundings, causing the skin on his face to be stretched taught as he bared his teeth against the resistance. He was failing! They were within arm's reach, he could…almost…touch… They were mercilessly wrenched out of his grasp. The assailant mocked him as his voice became the voice of Jadis. "It's all your fault, _big brother_. Because of _**you**_ they will die!" With a powerful thrust, he plunged his steel blade through Edmund's ever present scar, all the while smiling at Peter. Edmund looked at Peter disbelieving, blood bubbled through his silent moving lips.

A savage cry clawed its way out of Peter's throat as he sat up with knife in hand ready to strike. The girls were not screaming, Edmund was gone, and Oreius stood alone at the entrance of the tent. Shaking and completely soaked from head to toe, Peter franticly gasped for air as he realized he had a horrific nightmare. After what seemed a lifetime of trembling, Peter was finally able to deliver a quick nod to Oreius, reassuring him he was somewhat in control. Once alone, he turned over his sweat soaked pillow, and returned his knife before he laid down again. Crushed, Peter gripped the pillow void of his little brother's scent, feeling incomplete. It was Edmund who usually had the nightmares, and Edmund who always shared his bed to be reassured Jadis was dead. "Ed…" whispered Peter, caressing the intricate ring his brother commissioned to be made for him. He presented it on his birthday after the daylong celebration in the privacy of their room. Peter of course cried, which Edmund expected; hence the location of the gift giving. He could give his brother a blade of grass and he'd weep over it just because he gave it to him. Edmund found himself wrapped in two strong arms when he presented the golden band with the sun and the moon joined, inseparable, representing them both.

Peter tightened his fist and said, "I'm coming."

_**NnNnNnNnN**_

Rundull agreed with the others that their chances of survival might increase if they would split up. Getting home alive was the number one priority for them all, not money.

_I'm tired, tired of people and all the get rich schemes that seems to follow me. I allowed that good-for-nothing Galenor to lead me into lands I'd never heard of, lands with its strange animals and insects. I'm sure I saw a good portion of the ground move as if something was swimming underneath the surface. It was far away, but I'm sure that's what I saw. Serve those idiots right if it came over and ate em. Pushin me about, mocking me like I'm some simpleton. _

_I want to be home. No amount of gold is worth all this. I'm not so poor that I'm willing and foolish enough to lose my life. My sister begged me not to go, why didn't I listen? When I see her again I'll never, never discredit her dreams. And I'll apologize for pushing her out of my way when I left. Now look at me. I'm running scared in woods I don't know, and far from home. _

_Galenor's plan for riches seems petty now that I've taken a good look at what suffering I caused. Kidnapping! I've never stooped so low as to kidnapping children, especially children surrounded by protective pets. Strange that there were so many raccoons. In truth, when Galenor handed that little girl over to me I…I liked having that power. That power cause fear in the older children's eyes when I drew a little blood from the little one's neck. They needed to be stopped, and our side was dropping like flies. First they were giggling children having a picnic in the woods, next knives and swords appeared out of thin air as they cut us down. I've never seen anything like it._

_I shouldn't have done it. They're only children, despite their ability to kill at the drop of a hat. The brother, he may be a king, but he has the look of a dark warrior, a knight. I'm amazed how he could protect his sisters while bound, and impressed how he even protects what's said in front of them. He's quick and agile, like a cat…well more like a panther the way he looks at anyone who gets near "his queens" as he likes to call them. They look like good children. I'll never be able to look my family in the eye after what I've done, especially to the little one. _

_From what I understand of the High King of Narnia, my life is forfeited My only wish is to turn back time and turn down Galenor's offer._

Those were the thoughts that ran through Rundull's mind, kneeling over the small brook to refill the water skin. Half way through the process a presence was felt from behind. Rundull sighed.

"You're him," said Rundell without turning around.

"Yes."

"I knew this day would come, I just didn't expect it to be so soon. I only wanted to see my family once more."

"You denied me mine."

"Yes." There was silence as Rundull continued to stare at the brook. "I ask for your forgiveness," said Rundull, neck stretched over the brook. "One question. Would revealing that I'm a woman change my sentence?" asked Rundell as the removal of her hat revealed her dirty, yet beautiful hair.

Peter turned and walked away before the severed head and body hit the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.**  
Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

I do apologize for the late arrival of chapter four. I had a very difficult time with professors breathing down my neck before finals, and had to devote ALL of my free time to studies. I could cry now just thinking about it. Thank you, FelipeMarcusThomas for encouraging me to study hard instead of giving in to the pull of this story.

I saw this disclaimer on someone's story and thought it a good idea to put on my own: _I've read so much that I hope I didn't steal something from someone's story, if I did please accept my apology. _

No Slash What So Ever

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

The Taste of Murder Chapter 4

Peter shook with rage as he gripped the hilt of Rhindon. He tried to bring his breathing under control as he stared into the fire nearest his tent. His nostrils flared, infuriated with the decision he was forced to make. "Don't look at me like that, Oreius. Her death was merciful." Oreius stomped his foot and whipped the air with his tail in protest. "She deserved to die along with everyone who caused the death of my subjects, and the abduction of my siblings. Besides, if she was a soldier in a war you'd think nothing of it."

Oreius knew the king was right, and he was sure if he knew the woman's exact role in the atrocity he would have killed her himself. Nevertheless, he had her body buried out of respect.

Tavunis Faun approached the fire where the king and Oreius stood with feigned confidence, and added two more logs to chase away the evening chill. Earlier, he pulled the shortest straw between three Dwarves, a Dryad and a brother Faun to see who would go near the king to attend the fire. The king's savage mood was still evident after leaving Cair Paravel, therefore most left him to the brave General Oreius. Tavunis, a great warrior in his own right, made no eye contact, deposited the wood and quickly joined his companions as he wiped his brow and horns. The subjects of Narnia loved and treasured their dear High King, but none rather stand face to face with his dark side, not even his loyal soldiers.

After a moment of silence while watching the fire consume and crackle, Peter's cold eyes traveled up to meet his commander's. "We are near the land of the Hzans. They have something I want."

"No Peter!" exclaimed Oreius vehemently, too shocked to realize he spoke out of term. "This is madness, you've gone too far! If you go, surely Narnia will be without a High King." The muscles in Peter jaw began working as his chin rose in defiance. Oreius took note and began to twist the knife, "And your siblings will suffer as the _**new**_ orphans of Raccoon village suffer."

A minute muscle jumped in Peter's face as the small hairs on the back of his neck rose. Hurt, he studied the face of the general as sorrow whispered his name. He swallowed thickly and whispered, "I take that risk with every campaign, Oreius, you know that."

"But setting foot in that accursed land is foolish."

"I'm a fool for my family," said Peter, the firelight revealed the unshed tears. "Can you fault me for that?"

Oreius remained silent.

"I'm going to seek out the Hzans, not for only my sibling's sake, but out my duty and love for Narnia. Strangers came into our home, killed our people, and increased our despair by taking away our king and queens. One day the citizens of Narnia _will_ again sleep in peace when they lay down to rest, and the Hzans are going to help me accomplish that goal. I'm leaving at first light."

"I will be ready."

"I do not expect you to accompany me," said Peter as he shook his head in protest.

"Goodnight, Your Majesty," said Oreius, his arms folded across his massive chest, and face harder than usual.

Recognizing the dismissal, Peter face softened as he realized further argument would be futile. "Goodnight then." When he reached the entrance of his tent, he turned and said, "I'm not ashamed for I did. I carried out my sentence, woman or not. But for what it's worth, it hurt all the same."

"Understood, Your Majesty," came the gentle, fatherly reply from the great Centaur General, and the approving nod of those that stood by.

Peter stared into darkness as he lay on his back, mindlessly twirling his ring. Thoughts of the Hzans kept him awake for more than half the night. '_When Edmund finds out about my trip to the Hzans he's going to kill me. He'll ask Aslan to bring me back to life just so he can kill me again.' _ Peter sighed and turned as much as he could in his hammock. Thoughts of the devilish creatures, and what he must do, were overwhelming. He saw in his mind's eye creatures moving just underneath the surface of the earth like a fish swim through water. Everyone knew only the ignorant stepped foot on that accursed land.

_**NnNnNnN**_

Dananal's world spun out of control as he ran, instinctively fighting off the branches that tried to whip his face, shred his clothes. His vision was hindered by the heavy rains as he tried to find Galenor's hideout. Fear hindered him most of all, fear and grief. Earlier, hidden behind a tree, he saw the cruel beheading of his devoted friend. He followed Rundell a day after she left the group. He tried to talk her out of it, but the stubborn wall she erected refused to allow her to listen to reason. He had finally caught up to her and was about to alert her of his presence when he saw…him. Dananal didn't need anyone to tell him who the pale figure was. One look told him the rumors were true. He saw from his hiding place that the king did not blink when Rundell revealed herself as a woman. The only expression he held was the barring of his teeth when he swung his blade, which actually sung as it sliced the air. Without a glance back, the king was gone.

Dananal wasn't too keen on women. They were only trouble in his eyes, and that included his mother. He only saw them as demanding, money grubbing, baggage who deserved the back of his hand. But Rundell was different. When she wanted something, she didn't play the manipulation game, or wait for a man to get it for her. If she wanted it, she took it, and cut the throat of anyone who tried to take it back. She was feisty, could out drink any man, and be the last one standing in any brawl. She refused to cut her luxurious hair. It was to remind the cutthroats around her that a _woman_ had beaten them.

Now she was dead.

Dananal stopped running, his breathing uncontrolled. He rested his hands on bent knees, overcome with grief remembering the expression of hope on Rundell's face as her head fell.

_**NnNnNnN**_

The door slammed against the wall startling everyone in the room. A massive man stumbled in wet, muddy and broken.

"What are you doing here? I thought you left with the rest of those traitors! Come to your senses have ye?"

"She's dead, dead, Galenor. Rundell's dead. _**He**_ killed her. I saw it happened with my own eyes. Her body lay near that winding brook with her hat clutched in her fingers. Her head lay nearby."

Lucy and Susan gasped. Edmund swallowed thickly desiring more than ever to be free for his brother's sake. He recognized the name Rundell. She was the one who cut into Lucy's neck and threatened to kill her. She was the same one who took her sword and killed his defenseless subjects.

"Some magnificent king. It seems he takes pleasure in killing women too," growled Galenor at Edmund.

"She chose the sordid life she led, and there are consequences. Rundell drew the blood of a Narnian Queen. No one does that and live. Galenor she has been tried and judged for her crimes against Narnia. Rundell's death was required, as is yours," proclaimed Edmund with a final verdict.

An odd feeling of facing a great judge was so overwhelming that Galenor took an involuntary step back. He stood in disbelief as the judicial tone from the child sent chills up his spine. He quickly turned away from Edmund's eyes to gather himself. His nostrils flared as he took in deep breaths to calm himself. Suddenly, Galenor's men stood straighter as they watched their leader square his shoulders with confidence. With one hand on the hilt of his sword, and the other sliding down his face, Galenor turned to look at Edmund and his sisters. "I have been a fool."

"I've been telling you that since you brought us here," said Edmund with his signature eye roll.

"Shut up you little maggot, or you'll find your teeth shoved down your throat. Listen," he said to his men. "If the High King is bent out of shape over these three, it could only mean one thing...," Galenor smiled evilly, victoriously. "We have him by the royal crown. He'll do anything for these runts. I'll wager he'll even lay down his life for them. It's time to make a move. Carson," he said as he grabbed the man behind the neck joyously. "Quickly, find your way back and find me some potential buyers; rich ones!"

_**NnNnNnN**_

Parts of Narnia went about its daily task in ignorant bliss, but the news of the great tragedy at Raccoon village spread like a deadly wildfire. Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Fox were trusted to keep Cair Paravel and the kingdom in order until, "I bring my family home." Every morning, throughout the day and evening, from the biggest to the tiniest resident of Narnia, fervent prayers went up to Aslan for their Sovereigns. A special prayer was said for the High King's sanity, as his overwhelming love for his siblings was greatly known throughout the land. There were no celebrations of birthdays, new wine or marriages. In a land where the inhabitants found any reason to join in a feast, there was none to be found. The trees lost their vibrancy as the whole land spoke in whisper as it grieved. If someone was walking about, there was one audible word they heard as they passed each home; Aslan, Aslan, Aslan.

Amid the prayers for their Sovereigns were prayers for the hearts of Narnians. They beseeched Aslan for forgiveness as the taste of murder settled thickly over the land. The White Witch stole 100 years of their lives, now with the kings and queens gone, their Tree of Protection, there was another threat to their lives. The citizens of Narnia wanted revenge, not wanting to sit back and allow another lifetime to be devastated. Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Fox found they had an enormous task keeping the fires of rage at bay, especially since they too have had that same… raw taste.

"Aslan, please help us," said Narnia.

_**NnNnNnN**_

Banoc took refuge under a thick green bush during the storm, and was all too grateful that it was big enough to hide him. Immediately after the rain, birds began to flit about and tweet. They sung along with other forest creatures that rejoiced after the refreshing shower. Banoc checked his surroundings for hidden enemies before he cautiously stepped out of his sanctuary. Unfortunately, getting out was harder than it was getting in. For instance, parts of his body was held prisoner by thick, intertwining branches. If his enemy _were_ near, he would have alerted him by the loud grunts and wildly shaking the bush. With only his right foot left to free, Banoc gave one final _tug_. It was that last tug that sent him careening down the unseen slippery slope. Down, down, down the wet terrain he went, gaining momentum as he tried to desperately seize the wet surface. His nails peeled back as he tried to dig his fingers into the ground, his bloody hands adding to his slippery dilemma. Eyes wild with terror, Banoc screamed in horror when he found himself freefalling, grasping the air. His body bounced a few times before it slammed against the trunk of a large tree. As the world began to fade, intense, ice blue eyes appeared above him and said, "Hello. I've been looking for you."

Banoc was deep underwater swimming to the surface, to light. The closer he was to freedom the clearer the birdsongs were. When he broke through, he gasped for air as the world slowly came into focus. Banoc had regained consciousness. Once his vision cleared he found those same predatory eyes staring at him, only they were upside down, or rather he was. While unconscious he was strung upside down from the very tree that stopped his fall. There was no doubt who hung him there as he began to tremble. For days, he heard the screams of others in the woods, and he was sure he was looking at the cause of them.

"Do you have any siblings?" inquired Peter as he sat eye to eye with the man.

"Nnn, no, You're Majesty."

"Any children?"

"Yyyess, Your Majesty."

"Have they ever been abducted?"

Banoc was silent and looked away before he whispered, "No."

"So you are incapable of understanding the pure agony, the despair that has ravaged me every waking moment, and my dreams," said Peter as he watched the full moon rise.

The man had the audacity to look embarrassed. "No, I, I don't care much for children, not even my own…those that I know of."

Peter pursed his lips. "At this moment you are in no position to defend yourself with your arms tied to your body. But I have a strong desire to cut your tongue out and everything in your throat for relaying such filth."

"I didn't touch them, I promise…the other king and queens. I promise I didn't touch them," quivered Banoc as he felt the sweat roll into his hair.

The moon was half way up into the sky when Peter turned to look the man in the eyes. "Imagine this. You come home from a hard day's work, settling disputes amongst your subjects, which is quite difficult concerning elephants and giraffes." Banoc brows creased in confusion. "The table is beautifully set, the food smells delicious, but there is no family to greet you. No kisses, no hugs, no cheeky little brother you would stop the world for."

The man did not think Peter could look any colder, but the shiver that ran up his spine confirmed he could. "You took my two sisters, the very flowers of Narnia. Sweet natured, very…"

"I beg your pardon, your Majesty, but the little'un killed three men, and the eldest sister nearly bit off Galenor's finger."

"I didn't say they were helpless," said Peter conversationally. He stood and tested the security of the man's bindings, very satisfied with his work. "Look, today is a full moon…" Peter was interrupted by sweet, melodic voices that slowly filled the air with music; soft and hypnotic. The reflection of the moon danced in Peter's eyes to the rhythm of the chorus. The king stood unemotional and dead, a dark and sinister contrast to the music weaving itself around them. "It's the Yarweens," said Peter as he answered Banoc's unasked question.

The harmony grew as the moon climbed higher in the sky when suddenly there they were, the Yarweens in all their feminine glory. Even in his position Banoc was mesmerized by their striking beauty. Stunningly pale they were,yet pleasing to the male eye. They flew gracefully with delicate wings, their dance enticing as their song swelled with the rising of the moon as their stage. Three of the alluring creatures flew closer as they continued to sing in their exotic tongue. Elegant fingers gently caressed Banoc's cheeks as he was admired through luxurious lashes and captivating eyes. Their sultry gaze held him prisoner as their song seduced his senses.

Peter stood in silence as he watched how Banoc suffered from the desire to reach out and touch the very essence of temptation. He saw how the man forgot his plight as he hung upside down from a tree. Meanwhile, the music filled the sky as the moon continued to climb, reaching its goal, its zenith.

The music instantly stopped.

All but one forlorn note. Then another was added to it, then another and another. Each note building on top of the other as Peter watched the three Yarweens pick up thick, wide vines growing out of the ground underneath Banoc. One of the three slipped her fingers through the man's hair before she stepped closer and kissed him deeply.

"You people should know the terrain before you go walking about, taking what doesn't belong to you," said Peter to Banoc, void of expression.

The Yarween gradually broke off the kiss and look demurely over her shoulder at Peter with a sensuous smile. Slowly the sirens took flight as they circled around the obsessed Banoc, whose eyes caressed the dips and curves of each shapely form. Powerless, he continued to watch in a dreamy state, licking the sweet taste of a Yarween from his lips. Around Banoc they flew, higher and higher into the sky clutching their vine adorned with thick, six-inch thorns. As the music climaxed the three Yarween flew straight up in unison, muscles taught as they pulled, eyes bright with complete satisfaction. Banoc's scream joined the chorus.

Peter turned and walked away as he removed the plugs from his ears. He glanced back at the demonic forms of the Yarweens as they disappeared within the branches of the great tree, and the roots greedily fed on Banoc's blood.

Peter continued his trek to the land of the Hzans.

**tbc**


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age**.  
Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

I saw this disclaimer on someone's story and thought it a good idea to put on my own: _I've read so much that I hope I didn't steal something from someone's story, if I did please accept my apology. _

No Slash What So Ever

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

* * *

The Taste of Murder Chapter 5

Galenor's men had seen the sun and moon rise and fall many times between rotations. They were feeling more and more anxious as they continued to stay in one spot. Some, those more loyal to Galenor, were confident in their leader's decision to stay at the hide out. Considering who their prisoners are, one does not rush into making hasty decisions. The majority of the men, what few were left, decided he was scared; that didn't sit well with them.

Brows lifted and eyes widened when Carson was spotted leaving the hideout with his gear. Word quickly spread that Galenor decided to make a move, silencing the word _revolt_ on the minds of those who stayed behind…for now.

Carson stepped out the hideout with caution, adjusted his bag of rations and personal belongings, and headed south. Without as much as a farewell, he walked away from the most dangerous kidnapping any of them had ever been involved.

If anyone had chosen to have a closer look, they would have seen how heavy Carson's bag hung. Nervous, Carson's fingers turned white as he gripped his well-used sack. He acknowledged a man who stood guard with a nod as he walked by and on into the forest. The guards were strategically placed in the forest around the old, vine-covered hideout. They remained motionless while animals, such as crows came dangerously close. Inside Carson's bag were most of the booty from their last heist, and all of his clothes. He knew his throat was good as cut with the sharpest dagger if anyone guessed what he was doing. However, he had a plan; sell what he had and get far, far away from the "demonic" king and those that belonged to him.

If anyone noticed Carson's bag it was Edmund. His experience had taught him to travel light, he knew the man would not return.

"Galenor, you are not very good at this are you? This kidnapping and selling choice goods," said Edmund.

"Why are you talking to me menace?" said Galenor from his makeshift desk, his men scattered about the empty room save for a few tree stumps that served as chairs.

"We should look our best for your potential buyers, I should say. You can't continue to feed us on stale bread and moldy cheese. We need food."

"Oh? Where would Your Majesty wish to dine today? I believe I have some choice wine in the royal wine cellar just for your pleasure." His men roared with laughter as some poked their neighbor.

Edmund's eyes squinted dangerously as he was mocked. "I want my sister's fed a decent meal."

"Our rations are now limited and old, foolish boy. They eat what we eat," growled Galenor as he walked toward Edmund.

Edmund took a deep breath and spoke as one giving instruction to a small child. "There is a whole forest out there full of food. Take what weapons you have and go hunting." The room quieted.

"We're thieves not hunters," said Galenor as he lost his hurumph and avoided Edmund's eyes.

Edmund looked around in disbelief and saw some of the men scowl; others looked away as they shook their heads. Edmund looked at the ceiling and said, "Unbelievable."

"What are you so uppity about, _child_! No doubt your meals are prepared in gold pots, and served to you on silver platters. You think you're any better? Think ya could get out there and hunt for food?" again, Galenor mocked with sarcasm.

"Yes!" all three royals said with obvious disgust.

Edmund hopped closer to Galenor who stepped back without realizing it. Some of Galenor's men stepped closer, others didn't move, but kept their eyes on the boy. The girls stepped closer to Edmund as they kept their eyes on the men. All that was heard was the heavy breathing of one large man.

Dark amber eyes pinned every man where they stood. They were utterly helpless when Edmund finally spoke. "Thick, tender venison slow roasting on a spit. Sizzling juices dribbling down the sides of meat you can sink your teeth into. Succulent, mouthwatering fruit that will make you crave the next bite. Hot tender roots in a stew so thick you'll swear you'll never be hungry again. Would you like that?" Edmund asked as he saw some of the men mouths gaped and some went as far to lick their lips. One look at Galenor and Edmund knew he had the upper hand.

"I will have my sisters properly fed. I don't care how many of your band you need to watch us, just cut me loose and let us go out to find something decent to eat."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Galenor threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"Yes, I do, but that is beside the point. Fresh food must be gathered and you have proven yourself most incompetent."

The silence stretched between Galenor and Edmund as their eyes bore into each other. Edmund, poised with confidence, ever the king of Narnia, grated on Galenor's nerve. The older man glared at Edmund as his nostrils flared in disgust, pure hatred is what he felt. Before he could utter a word someone shouted…"I'll keep a sharp eye on 'em." It was a short fellow not much older than Peter. Edmund had his eye on him because he had his eye on Susan. The fellow blushed profusely every time he brought her water. Once he nearly jumped out of his skin when she accidently touched his hand receiving the ladle. Hope showed desperately as he waited for Galenor's decision. "I'll do it, Galenor."

When everyone could think clearly, there was a frenzy of instant volunteers as Galenor tried to bring order.

"Who's in charge here!" shouted Galenor, quieting everyone. "Why is it when this boy speaks everyone listens? You hang on his every word like snot nose brats!"

"Are you saying, no?" asked Edmund, as he exaggeratedly looked at Galenor's men then back to Galenor.

The leader squinted his eyes as he saw exactly what Edmund was doing. He knew his _own_ hands were tied by the cunning little king.

"Fine, I keep the little one until you return."

Within a heartbeat Edmund answered, "No."

"If you want food for your sisters she'll stay!" snarled Galenor as he stood toe to toe with Edmund.

"I would rather watch them _**rot**_ where they stand before I leave either of them alone with you!" said Edmund dangerously as he leaned in closer.

Galenor studied Edmund's eyes. He was seized by their depth and saw a darkness no man should ever see. He was sure the fury he saw in the dark depths mirrored the very image of his brother. It was a disturbing sight.

Galenor, as a show of force, threatened Edmund of how painfully he and his sister would die if even one tried to escape.

_**NnNnNnN**_

Edmund and Lucy were inspecting bags to gather what food they could find, while Susan perfected an arrow she made under close guard.

"Here's more for ya," taunted a gruff looking man as he dumped five more sturdy sticks in front of Susan.

"Thank you, but I'll only need the one," she said as she gracefully stood from her seated position. The man stood gaping as he watched Susan make her way over to her siblings. "Ready? Oh Ed," she sighed with concern as she inspected the rope burn on Edmund's wrist.

"I will never forgive you if you kiss it in front of these men," whispered Edmund.

"I'll leave that to Peter when he arrives," grinned Susan.

"Aslan help us all from those month long kisses," giggled Lucy.

All three grinned, the humor crinkled at the corner of their eyes. Slowly, they sobered with mutual understanding of how much they longed for it.

The men, even Galenor, were speechless as they saw the children at work in the forest. They found edible roots, instructed the men which berries to pick and were shocked that the youngest queen reached under a thorny bush only to withdraw a luscious, soft pink fruit.

"How did you know that was under there?" asked a giant of a man.

"Clearly you don't converse with Badgers."

"Keep your secrets then!" he answered harshly. Lucy only smiled and continued with her harvesting.

When the big strong men saw a little girl bring down a deer in mid leap with one shot, their eyes nearly popped out of their heads. Edmund stood proud with his arms crossed and a grin on his face. His smile fell as he looked at the men. "Well, pick it up! You don't expect her to carry it too, do you?" So mesmerized were they, they almost forgot to follow the children back to the shelter.

_**NnNnNnN**_

Galenor sat and watched the three children, who had not only proven their skills in the forest, but also had single handedly gained the respect of his men. The men's bellies were full as they sat in content sucking and licking juices off their fingers. This unsettled him.

/Sumthin don't sit right about these children, maybe sumthin evil. How can that beautiful wench be an expert archer? Foolish child, wantin' red feathers only. Spoiled tart! There aren't many red birds around! That's a girl for ya. They commanded my men, who did everything they were told; fools! Out there gathering lookin like a bunch of workers durin' harvest time, AND no one were watchin the brats! But I had my eye on them. The boy, who does he think he is, calling us "incompetent," not able to cook! Ole Tarin can cook rat just as good as anybody! / Galenor never took his eyes off the children. He watched as the king made sure his queens had the best parts and first pick of the best dinner they've had in days. He watched as the eldest queen coerce the king to eat more, which he willingly obeyed. Galenor, while listening to his men joke and laugh as if they were at some picnic, sat seething with his hot meal mocking him.

/ I'm just as bad sittin' here with a cool mint drink in my hand. How did they know that strange leaf would sweeten it? It's gotta be the work of somethin' evil. It _is_ good in this wicked hot weather. Herbs in place of salt…hmm, they are proving themselves more valuable every day. I am going to be rich, and I can't _wait_ to get them off my hands. /

Galenor's right hand sat next to him holding his plate filled with venison and delicious mushrooms with herbs. His eyes rolled back when he took a mouthful and moaned in pleasure. "This isn't right. The prisoners feeding us like this. You know, I could get use to..."

"Well don't," growled Galenor.

Ever since the confrontation with Edmund Galenor had been in a foul mood, and it did not go unnoticed.

"We should not have allowed _this_ you know, no matter how desperate we all were for fresh food. For all we know they could have poisoned us and walked out of here. Too late now," said Manwen before he took another bite and moaned. "Ahh, so tender."

Manwen followed Galenor's line of sight and witnessed the interaction between the children. "He takes care of them, they take care of him…such devotion they have for one another," he whispered around another mouthful. He wiped his well greased mouth with his sleeve before he continued, "If their brother's love is a smidgen of what they have for each other, then I fear he will come and consume us all like a firestorm. We should move. Get away from this place."

"No, Carson should be back soon with news of potential buyers. We'll stay a few days more. We're well hidden and I'll increase the patrol," said Galenor as he continued to snarl at the royals.

"Increase the patrol! I don't know if you saw what they did out there, but I have a feeling their brother is just as good, maybe better. He'll probably slit the throat of those on _patrol_ before they even know he's there."

"Get away from me," Galenor growled through his teeth as he whipped his head around at Manwen.

"Hmm," Manwen said as he sucked the food out of his teeth. "Come to think of it, I haven't had dessert. Enjoy your drink, I hope _it_ isn't poisoned," he mocked with sarcasm and walked to the table heavy with fruit.

Irate, Galenor returned his attention to his prisoners. He did not like them, especially the boy. He couldn't stand the sight of them, yet he continued to look.

One by one, Edmund watched his captors, whose bellies were disgustingly full, drift off as they became complacent. He looked at the girls with a slight grin, which he quickly covered. It did not go unnoticed as the girls sighed, dismissing Galenor's piercing eyes.

Soon, they would be able to make their move.

* * *

**tbc :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.

**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

No Slash What So Ever

_**AN:**_ On hands and knees begging for forgiveness. Sorry this is so late. This time the professors used cat-o-nine tails on me, constantly interfering. BUT my last exam is coming up this week. YAYNESS! I can taste the sweet victory of freedom. So close, yet so far. Okay, enough dramatics.

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor. I saw this disclaimer on someone's story and thought it a good idea to put on my own: _I've read so much that I hope I didn't steal something from someone's story, if I did please accept my apology. _

The Taste of Murder Chapter 6

* * *

"PETER, WATCH OUT!" Roared Oreius as Peter narrowly missed powerful snapping jaws. The sound of teeth breaking through bone could be heard over the wind and rain of a brave soldier who stood too close to the natural barrier in the land of the Hzans. Rhindon sliced through the air obeying its master, doubled back seeking to annihilate the yellow blooded creature that moved with unbelievable speed.

An angry, ear piercing shriek of the Hzan filled the air, chilling the blood of every brave Narnian or any living creature up to a mile away. The creature's imposing black body of pure muscle moved easily across the sand better than any snake. Its bulging liquid eyes never left the persistent prey that proved _not_ to be an easy kill.

Oreius would never admit his mixed emotions of fear and pride as he watched his king, the very king who forbade him to step foot across the barrier onto Hzan's land. Standing at a safe distance with claymore in hand he watched without emotion, but secretly proud of _how_ Peter ran towards his oncoming enemy as a powerful, fearless predator. Intense blue eyes flashed through the heavy rain as Rhindon seemed to come alive, slicing through parts of the Hzan like butter, drawing infuriating cries.

Lightning split the air as an ancient dance of death and destruction pored through Peter's soul. Raw, savage power fed the hungry demon that lurked beneath his skin with each attack. Three feet of poisonous fangs narrowly missed his face as he snapped his head around. "PETER BEHIND YOU!" shouted Oreius as the barbed tail of the creature swung to attack from behind. With the agility of a cat, Peter jumped and rolled just as the tailed whipped passed him with deadly intent.

What happened next happened so fast the army barely had time to gasp before it was over. They witnessed the High King, their beloved king, use the base of the eight foot creature's tail to propel himself up the Hzan's back. With one powerful stroke, Rhindon carved through flesh and bone, severing the creature's head as it reared. Immediately everyone vomited violently because of the intense stench. All the insects in the area died, flying birds and every tree dwelling animal fell to the ground sick.

Oreius struggled for control as he looked for Peter through watery eyes. He found him on his knees soaked through, Rhindon still in his grip. As the storm began to taper off and come to an end, Peter tried to suck in as much clean air as he could.

"PETER, COME, HURRY!"

Peter turned around to see what caused Oreius to go insanely pale. In the distance the ground moved in waves. There were ten distinct patterns of Hzans moving his way. Anxiously, Peter searched the ground for what he desperately fought and killed. Franticly he dug around in the wet sand as the creatures swam closer, some jumped out of the ground as a dolphin would water; wrenching screams filled the air.

"YOUR MAJESTY, YOU MUST HURRY!" demanded Tavunis, as he shook his fist at his king; which he would later be ashamed.

Oreius wouldn't, couldn't remain on safe ground any longer and decided to deal with the consequences later. Through the wet grass he ran on wobbly legs, and found other brave soldiers running alongside him in weakened conditions. But they grew stronger as the air cleared of pure gaseous filth. They crossed the barrier and ran further down to where Peter was searching. Badgers, Dogs, Foxes, Squirrels, every soldier dug as their lives and the life of their king depended on it. "Found it!" yelled Rexx the Squirrel who did not hesitate, but grabbed the pulsing flesh and ran towards safety. Peter barely had time to stop digging before he felt his arm nearly pulled out of its socket as he was thrown on Oreius' back. The General sprinted so fast that Peter had to grip the amour for dear life. Angry cries of the Hzans were close enough that the whites of every Animal's eye could be seen, including Peter's.

Three Hzans reached Oreius first and reared back to strike.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

"Edmund, are you all right?" asked Lucy as she sat next to Edmund in alarm. Susan immediately drew near.

"Did you feel that?" inquired Edmund as he touched the ground for support. The room began to spin out of control as he tried to find his bearings, and grew white as a sheet as he forced his eyes tightly shut.

"Feel what?" inquired Susan deeply concerned. "Ed? Here, Lucy, help me lean him against the wall. Edmund what's wrong?" she whispered.

Opening his eyes, Edmund's vision was filled with his sister's faces. They were scared. His vision blurred and his hearing muffled as an overwhelming pressure on his chest made it suddenly difficult to breathe.

For the first time since their kidnapping, Lucy was actually frightened. She tried desperately to still Edmund's shaking hands as she saw anguish written across his face. "It's Peter!" she said as the revelation hit her. The fine hair on her arms and neck rose.

Susan gasped as she looked from Lucy to Edmund. His declining condition only confirmed her sister's cry.

Lucy knew; she had seen it before. _Intense_ love and dedication entwined through the very fiber of her brothers souls. It created a bond that caused an indescribable sensation when something went horribly wrong with the other. It was an unexplained phenomenon, but so were the Kings of Narnia. "Breathe, Edmund," she said. Her hands shook when she dipped the edge of her skirt into some drinking water to cool his face.

Susan had to remember to breathe herself as her hand unconsciously tightened on the sleeve of Edmund's tunic.

The experience only lasted for a moment, but enough to frighten all three. After a few seconds passed, Edmund's breathing began to stabilize and color returned to his face. He was ready to find every living soul of his captors and snuff the very life out of them; starting with Galenor. It was time to go.

"Tonight," was all Edmund said as he took a deep breath. His eyes burned as flames when he looked at Galenor.

"Yes," replied the girls as they looked at each other. Each queen moved on either side of their brother and sat shoulder to shoulder encasing him. He pulled them in close to the point of pain, but neither queen complained.

From his table Galenor watched the exchange between the siblings. The boy looked peeked, and he hoped he ate something that didn't agree with him. Even though it would be a great loss of profits, he hoped the boy would die a painful death from a poisoned berry or mushroom he picked with "_competence._" Galenor made eye contact with Edmund, and was greatly disappointed to see some color return. Frowning, he became unnerved to see an immediate change in the little king. He looked as if he was ready to level the building with him in it.

"What's gotten into you, Galenor? That vein in the middle of your forehead is jumping again," Manwen grinned.

"He's planning something. He's oozing with it, the little wretch!"

Manwen looked at the three children huddled together, they didn't look threatening. To appease Galenor he said, "What do you want to do?"

"We gotta somehow get that little un' away from the older two. We'll have the upper hand if he tries somethin'," he whispered.

Manwen was rubbing his tired eyes, but his hands immediately stopped with Galenor's last words. His eyes blinked once as he tried to process what Galenor just said. "You realize that boy will plunge anyone into _eternal damnation_ if they get too close to those girls. He looks like an innocent and defenseless child, but you personally know what he is capable of. I have a feeling we haven't seen the worst of him, but you touch that girl…I won't lie to you, he scares me. _And _we have to somehow get them sold before the eldest brother gets here. I believe the terrifying stories my friend, but I believe in my pockets more, so it's worth the risk. These children are either going to make us filthy rich, or be the cause of us losing our worthless lives. No, Galenor, I advise against taking her. Besides, both she and her sister are hellcats at times. That whole family is crazy."

"I'm going to make my rounds. Just get them out of my sight!" growled Galenor as he stood. Walking out of the room he saw one of his men asleep, an obvious reaction to the feast he'd eaten earlier. The man suffered from an uncontrollable cough as he rolled across the floor with a boot print on his chest.

"Get up ya lazy, mangy piece of nothing!" shouted Galenor. Spittle flew out of his mouth and soaked into his beard. Disgusted, but completely in control, Susan looked away.

**_NnNnNnNn _**

As they examined their new quarters, the prisoners wondered at the sudden change. It was a bare, small windowless room with a torch that was lit. The high ceiling let in a few rays of fading sunlight and fresh air, creating a better atmosphere than the main room of unwashed, bearded men. Edmund noticed the young man from earlier return with some crates. He was without the other _escorts_. Once again, he only had eyes for Susan.

Blushing he said, "I…I brought you some crates from the other three rooms to sit on. The floor here is wet from the storm…," and looked away shyly still holding the crates.

"Thank you," said Susan with a smile. "Here let me…"

"Oh no, I got it. I'll place them over here away from the opening."

The young man could feel Edmund's sharp eyes with every move he made. He was sure not to step to close to the girls and moved slow and precise. He wouldn't want the king to misinterpret anything. With a nod to the girls he turned to leave, but before he could get to the door, Edmund stopped him.

"What is your name?"

"Yori, Your, Your Majesty," he said with a poor attempted bow as he removed his hat nervously. Edmund took notice of the tone of respect... and fear.

"Yori, would you assist me if I asked it?"

"Yes," he said as he took a step back when Edmund moved forward.

"Would you mind serving my sisters fresh water every day, preferably what hasn't been used by the men?"

"Yes, yes, that will not be a problem. And if I may say so," he lowered his voice and looked towards the door. "I am sorry about all this, I just follow orders. You see, Galenor is my uncle. I was going to leave with his brother, my uncle Layen, but," he glanced at the girls. "Well, I thought it would be best if I stayed."

Edmund quirked his right brow in understanding and was grateful. "My sister's are not fragile in the least, but I must take a care of their feminine sensibilities. They are _precious_ to me and I will spare them all I can. You can help me do this by making sure you are the only one who tends us, not the others.

"I'll try my best," agreed Yori.

"I will not forget this, Yori."

"Please, remember me to your brother. I too fear him, if the stories are true," Yori stated, looking for confirmation.

"To some extent they are."

Yori swallowed thickly.

"I will remember you, Yori."

Yori literally felt the burden of his impending death sentence lightened. He had the urge to throw himself at Edmund's feet in gratitude, but he saw Susan nonchalantly glance his way as she talked to her sister. He couldn't be seen groveling in front of her, so he settled for a grateful nod before he exited the room to retrieve fresh water. Once he stepped out of the door with a relieved grin plastered on his face, he went sprawling across the floor. One of the two laughing guards posted outside the door purposely tripped him.

One of them sucked in the mucus from his sinuses, and spat it out on the floor in the prisoner's room before he closed the door with a big toothless grin.

"Urgh, I can't wait to get out of here," said Susan with disgust as she pulled Lucy closer to her.

"All right," whispered Edmund as he sat on the worst of the three old crates. With a tilt of his head he gestured for the girls to take their seats directly in front of him. He shielded them from the wad of spew and said, "Let's assess. We fed eight men inside including Galenor and Manwen. Lucy, what did you learn from your foraging?"

"I managed to get a good look at the perimeter while I was searching for fruit, and I saw five men; two by the door and three on patrol."

"There could be others. Yori mentioned three other rooms, plus this one. And of course there is the central room and the room adjacent," whispered Susan.

"Yes, but all the men stay together in that central room talking rubbish, so I'd say the eight plus the five are all that remain.

"Let's not forget the one who's…," Susan broke off, a bit embarrassed for possibly crippling a man for life.

"Don't, Susan! That man deserved what happened to him," scolded Edmund. "He's dead anyway once Peter finds him." The girls held each other's hands as they looked at Edmund. He winced as the words echoed around the room. Lovingly, Edmund reached over to cover their hands with his. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so insensitive." Anyone who dared be the cause of the expression his sisters now held suffered his wrath. Now he was that cause. Edmund knew they understood a penalty must be paid for the deaths of their subjects, but he didn't need to rub it in their faces. They all understood the deed will be quite distasteful, but necessary.

Frustrated, he corded his fingers through his hair as he stood up and made his way over to the hole in the ceiling. A welcoming breeze played with his hair as he stared out of the gaping maw. He wanted to reach up and rip away the remaining stones that made up the ceiling and free his sisters and himself. They had to find Peter. His brother was in trouble, he knew it to be true with unseeing eyes. He wondered if one of Galenor's men harmed him, but that was a ridiculous thought and it quickly vanished. /_What of the odd creatures in the area? Did he fall prey to one of them? No, Peter knows the land well and all its secrets._/ He didn't give the Hzans a thought because he knew Peter was much too sensible to go near _that_ land. "So what is it, brother? What have you done?" he whispered. He looked at the girls and said, "It should be dark soon. That's when we'll…" The door opened. Yori walked in with a bucket of fresh water.

"I'm back bearing gifts. Here is some fruit and shrooms for your breakfast in the morning, and a bucket of fresh water. I tried to convince Galenor to let me leave the bucket here all night, but he was against it. He's afraid you'll try to use it as a weapon," he said with a shrug. "But the water hasn't been touched by the others."

"I take it he doesn't know about the crates," stated Edmund.

"No," said Lori sheepishly. "Sorry about the hole, but it's the best out of the three rooms. This place is old. We just chanced upon it all covered in ivy.

"Thank you for all you've done, Yori," said Susan with a gentle smile. Yori's chest puffed out two inches at the sound of his name from the gentle queen.

Lucy bit her lip to conceal the giggle that was threatening to bubble up. She couldn't decide which sight was more amusing, Yori's obvious love sick infatuation over Susan, or the sour expression on Edmund's face. When she saw her brother's eyes narrow, and his expression changed from annoyance to hostile against what seemed to be their only ally, she thought it best to dismiss Yori.

"Yes, Yori, thank you very much for your kindness. Will we be seeing you early in the morning?" she inquired as she walked toward the door.

Stepping off the fluffy clouds, the same color as Susan's eyes, Yori turned to look at Lucy. He suddenly cleared his throat and blushed profusely up past his hairline as he became aware of his actions. A quick look at Edmund told him he needed to leave immediately. "Yes, yes I will."

"You forgot something," said Edmund, his irritation obvious to all. Yori looked confused. "The water. We have not had our drink yet."

"Oh, yes, yes of course," he said as he returned. He placed the bucket on the floor and stepped back. With trepidation, Yori watched as Edmund ladled out some water for Lucy, then Susan. How desperate he wanted to watch the gentle queen sip her fill, but wouldn't. Edmund's cold dark eyes were ever watchful, even when he wasn't looking directly at you.

After Yori bid them goodnight, rather quickly, the girls smirked at each other with a plan.

"How old do you think he is?" sighed Susan dreamily with a smile.

"Old enough. Do you think Peter would let me keep him?" asked Lucy as she hugged herself.

"No, Lucy, I saw him first. Besides he's in love with me."

"But that's not fair, you get princes', ambassadors and kings asking for your hand. You could at least leave me the thief," pouted Lucy.

Edmund stood with his mouth gaping as an all consuming heat rushed throughout his tensed body. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It wasn't until he saw the twinkle in Lucy's eyes could he breathe again. Bothe girls burst into a fit of giggles from the look on his face. Edmund was just as bad as Peter when it came to the opposite sex requesting an audience with the fair Susan…_their_ sister.

"Shaddup," said one of the guards as he banged on the door. "Before I come in and shut you up!"

Edmund scowled at the door before he directed the girls to their seats.

"Are you two quite finished? Honestly, girls," he said as he took his own seat. Despite their current circumstances, he was pleased to see the girls smiling, even at his expense.

"Oh, Ed, you should have seen your face," smiled Lucy.

"Well, I'm happy to have entertained you," he said with false irritation.

As the muffled voices outside the door droned on into the night, so did Edmund with a plan of escape. Each girl paid close attention to follow Edmund's instruction to the letter if they were to avoid detection.

"If I am caught, I want you two to run." He silenced Lucy before she could protest with a look. "I won't hear of it Lu. You run and find Peter. I have a feeling he's not too far from here…whatever his circumstances. Besides, I doubt I get caught. Our captors are buffoons."

"Dangerous buffoons with swords," whispered Susan. "Don't underestimate them, Ed."

Two hours later, Edmund stood guard as the girls slept. One always stood vigil as the other two slept, never wanting to be caught off guard. He looked at the moon through the hole and ivy, a sight he had not seen in many days. It looked duller than in Narnia. Everything was a dull imitation compared to his beloved home. He missed it. He missed his brother. Thinking of Peter caused that dull constant ache in the center of his chest to hurt and only his presence could banish the pain. A lump formed in his throat as he thought about their last parting.

* * *

"What are you smiling about?" asked Peter when he found Edmund in the garden.

"You," said Edmund with a twinkle in his eye.

"Me? And what about me may I ask?"

Edmund's smile became more of a grin as he watched Peter's perplexed expression. "You are like an elephant brought down by a cute little mouse," he said using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

"I assume the cute little mouse is Lucy?"

"Precisely," said Edmund as Peter stood by his side and sighed. "Lucky for you she doesn't use her powers for evil."

"I say lucky for us both. You are not immune, Ed."

The two kings smiled at each other as they walked side by side in their elaborate garden. Beautiful daffodils and daisies bowed, encouraged by a gentle breeze in the presence of the kings. "Besides, Ed, I did say no, and it _**is**_ my final word. I put off this meeting with the elephants for far too long. They would never forgive me if I postponed again."

"Well, that's unfortunate for you. I hear Mrs. Rachel Raccoon is making her famous Rummy pie," Peter winced. "…with the creamy topping." Edmund automatically caught Peter's crown when it fell off his head when his chin hit his chest in sorrow.

"The surple berry cream?" asked Peter as his shoulders slumped.

Edmund licked his lips in reply.

Peter felt Lucy slip her hands into his with Susan by her side. "What's wrong, Peter?"

"No need for alarm," he squeezed her hand for reinsurance. "I just heard Mrs. Rachel Raccoon made Rummy pie for the picnic. You know how I feel about that pie, especially with cream."

"She knew you weren't coming with us and sent one over. Didn't Ed tell you?" asked Lucy. Susan giggled.

The garden was filled with Edmund's laughter as he held onto his crown; his brother's thunderous footfalls were close as he made a fast get-a-way. Laughing way too hard for a serious escape, Edmund was caught easily by Peter who, with mock anger, snatched the crown from his head and followed him to the ground. Peter pinned his younger brother with his knees on either side of his hips, ready to seek revenge. "No, Peter please, stop," but it was to no avail. With one hand, Peter pinned Edmund's arms above his head accompanied by menacing smile. Long, strong and dangerous fingers wiggled, they were perfect for tickling among other uses. He knew which rib was vulnerable and attacked until Edmund began to turn red with laughter.

"Ehem, excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me, Your Majesties," shouted Tumnus and cleared his throat apologetically.

"Yes, Tumnus?" asked Peter as each boy froze.

"Oreius is ready to escort you to your meeting," he said trying not to laugh at the two not so elegant kings: Scattered crowns (which have seen their fair share from the service of the Crown Jeweler) messy hair and rumpled clothes.

"Tell him I'm on my way," said Peter before he looked back at Edmund.

"Get off me you git," growled Edmund.

With a chuckle Peter helped Edmund to his feet, brushed him off and placed a gentle kiss on his head before returning the silver crown to its rightful place. "Take care of the girls, Ed. I'll miss you today." Peter squeezed his shoulder before running off to hug and kiss the girls good-bye. There was a giggle from Lucy as Peter chased her around Susan for a second kiss, then he was off.

Edmund watched as his brother received Rhindon from a waiting servant at the gate, the sun glinting off his golden crown as he turned once more to wave good-bye and shout, "I love you. See you at dinner."

* * *

The tears stung as Edmund swallowed down his anger. He wanted to tear down the very walls that separated him from Peter till his fingers bled. After a good deep breath, Edmund was able to gain some control. Silently he looked across the room at his sisters. He fought hard to keep his promise to Peter. Technically, they were safe although imprisoned. If anyone laid a hand on either of them they wouldn't know their heart was missing until someone brought the gaping hole in their chest to their attention. That was Edmund. Agile as a cat, quick to strike as a snake.

Complete and utter silence drew Edmunds attention towards the door where laughter was moments before. He leaned as he strained to listen. Dead air. Instinctively, he ran quietly to the girls and got them to their feet to prepare for the unknown.

"What's wrong, Edmund?" whispered Susan as she tried to focus, blinking away the blur from her eyes.

"I don't know," he whispered back after positioning Lucy between them. "But, something is making my skin crawl."

Except for the cool summer breeze that whispered through the ivy covered hole, all was quite. A click drew their attention. Every creak of the old door screamed a warning as it slowly opened. Eyes with bushy dark eyebrows of pure hatred appeared, followed by a scowl that belonged to Dananal. Joined by two others, he slid into the dimly lit room. The ugliest and dirtiest of the three closed the door as quietly as possible with a menacing grin.

They were not the original guards.

"It's all your fault. He wouldn't have killed her if it wasn't for you three pest! Rundell was worth more than all of you maggot infested rats," said Dananal as he saw all three royals gather together. "What's wrong little girl? You're not scared are ya? You should be you piece of…"

"I'm warning you, sir, leave us," warned Edmund, his voice dangerously low.

"Or what? You're gonna tell your big brother? Trust me, when I'm through with you he won't be able to recognize either of you," he sneered over his shoulders at his men.

"Don't come any closer," warned Edmund again.

"Is that a command, Your Majesty?" mocked Dananal as he pulled out a barbed looking knife. "Before I gut you I'm gonna mess up that pretty face of yours. Come here you stupid little…" said Dananal before he and his men ran towards Edmund and the girls.

High pitch screams sent Galenor and his men running from the main room to where the prisoners were held. He couldn't believe what he saw. He didn't _want_ to believe what he saw.

_**tbc **_** (^_~)**


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.

**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

No Slash What So Ever

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

The Taste of Murder Chapter VII

* * *

"What have you done?" screamed Galenor, hostility etched in every word as he saw his men…dead.

"I did warn them," said Edmund as he quickly ripped the bottom of his tunic. The cloth was used to wipe the spray of blood off the girl's hands and hurt faces. He wanted to take care of all three men himself, but after the five seconds it took to kill the one, the others were falling to the ground dead and the girls were replacing their weapons. It was comforting to know his sisters knew how to protect themselves, but he hated the unseen blood that stained their hands.

Galenor was stunned beyond all reason as he stared at the slaughtered bodies of his three men. He couldn't believe he was actually staring at three dead men and three calm children. He was beginning to believe the children delved into the practices of the dark art. There was no other explanation. For years kidnapped children were his easy meal ticket. It took little to draw them away from their families; a piece of sweet here, a cute little puppy there, and frightening the older ones with a story to kill their parents if they didn't come along. Galenor had been in the business for years and never had he seen children, not just children, but deadly children who looked deceptively pure and innocent.

Had he been there, Galenor would have seen the three men charging with the intent to kill against his wishes. He would have been just as surprised as Dananal to see a sharp protruding blade spring from the toe of Edmund's boot as he spun and sliced Dananal's shins through the bone. When the man fell screaming like a child, the same blade found itself thrust into his right temple and his throat neatly cut.

Galenor didn't see the sorrow in the eyes of the gentle queen when she realized she would have to kill the man who charged at her with a horrific knife. With a twitch of her hand out dropped the second arrow she secretly made earlier, and hid it up her sleeve. The man dropped expecting some trickery, but he didn't see the third arrow as it was plunged with great force into the back of his neck. His body lay twitching on the ground as his eyes went dark.

The man at Lucy's feet clutched a clean knife, but blood seeped from his missing right eye and his chest lay wide open. Once again, had Galenor been keen enough to spot it, Lucy had a hidden sheath in her very stylish upturned hair that housed a thin yet strong blade. Like Edmund, she knew it was always best to be prepared for the unexpected.

Galenor and his men were left with the thought of just _how_ did the children kill the three. So well trained were the Kings and Queens of Narnia that every weapon was quickly returned to their hidden places, and they stood before their captors as regal as ever.

The room was quiet except for the heavy breathing of their captors. Whether it was from shock, fear, or their short sprint, no one knew…if they bothered to care.

"Why you…you…" stuttered Galenor.

Edmund stepped in front of the girls possessively and whispered, "Careful."

The men looked at each other with mixed emotions of fear and rage. "Release us, Galenor. Do you believe my brother is looking to rescue us only? He's hunting you and your people," said Edmund, never breaking eye contact as he slowly took a threatening step forward. "I can guarantee you that he is bathing in the blood of those that left, seeking to escape their sentencing. Once he finds us here, there will be no stopping him."

The blood drained from the men's faces as they fell on top of each other as they tried to run. "Get back here you mangy mongrels! Get those bodies out of here!" shouted Galenor as he shoved three men back into the room and left; too angry—and scared to discuss anything.

The men wouldn't get too close to the children. Only close enough to pull the bodies near before they could get a good grip on them and dragged them out, leaving a horrific crimson trail. The last man to leave, with his back to the hall and eyes on the children, slipped on the crimson mess as he tried to close the door. He quickly rolled to his feet and froze crouched low with his hands up in defense towards Edmund and the girls. He slowly backed away and closed the door quietly as possible despite the rusty hinges.

Edmund released a sigh and turned to assess his sisters. Are you alright," he asked with concern.

"Susan, you're bleeding!" shouted Lucy as she saw the blood dripping on the floor.

Edmund gasped when he rolled up his sister's torn sleeve and found a jagged gash. Stinging prickles from head to toe covered his entire body when he saw the amount of blood flow.

"It's not quite as bad as all that, really," said Susan as she was gently led to a crate. Lucy took a closer look as she heard another rip from Edmund's tunic. All three stood defensively and faced the door when once again it slowly creaked opened.

It was Yori. He carried two buckets filled to the brim with water. One, he lay at Edmund's feet. The second, he washed away the dead men's blood off the floor, making sure to swoosh it outside the door. He vanished only to return a few times more to complete the job. Satisfied the gory mess was gone, Yori stood close, but not to close, to the royal family. He knew Edmund was wound up tight enough to kill anyone with a glance. For the first time he saw the gash in Susan's arm and became alarmed. "Is she alright?" he stammered. Neither Lucy nor Edmund acknowledged him as they continued to work on their sister.

"Hold it Lu while I tie," directed Edmund, his hands shook. Susan bit her bottom lip, refusing to cry out. That did not go unnoticed by Edmund as he made eye contact with her. He kissed her injured arm and cheek before returning to the task. Once he was satisfied with his work, he looked both girls over _thoroughly_ and quickly drew them up into a much-relieved hug. Yori flushed, not used to the affectionate display as he saw Edmund's fingers turn white clutching the girls, his expression fierce, hurtful, deadly.

"Yori, I believe you should leave. Once Peter sees my sister's condition, I promise you he won't be satisfied until every man is dead," he said as he rubbed his cheek on top of Susan's head; pain in his voice. "I would have lost my mind and killed everyone myself had I not seen the man fall to his death. My brother is going to destroy all in his path," said Edmund quietly, prophetically. "And I won't be able to protect you."

"Oh no, Ed, you must try! Yori is dead if he tries to escape," cried Lucy from Edmund's chest.

Edmund only watched Yori with suspicion. He didn't trust anyone.

_**NnNnNnN**_

Peter's hair was plastered to his head as rivulets of sweat continued to run down his neck into his tunic. His tongue felt rough, as if he'd licked dry, hot sand for the past hour. Everyone was busy at their tasks setting up camp as he looked around. He was extremely thirsty. The trickling stream enticed him as he saw it glittering through the trees. Darkness would soon be upon them and he didn't want to disrupt anyone from their duty. The stream wasn't far enough to alarm his company if he took a trek through the woods, so he left for a cool refreshing drink without his guard; despite Oreius' past warnings. As the minutes passed, his thirst became unbearable. He nearly ran to the smooth flowing temptation, as he contemplated jumping in instead to kill two birds with one stone. Boy was he hot.

The cool wind blew on his hot face as he took refuge in the shade of the trees leading a path towards the bank. The heat was quite dizzying as he focused on the cool refreshing water ahead. A twig snapped from behind. He froze. All thoughts of quenching the desert inside his mouth were lost. Peter slowly took in his surroundings as he pulled Rhindon from its sheath. His instinct told him he was being watched as his muscles rippled under his tunic.

The occasional breeze moved branches and leaves while squirrels chased each other back and forth from tree to tree. But the insects were quiet and the tweeting of nearby birds were quiet. There was a sudden eruption of squawks in the trees as birds flew away in protest. Three men jumped out of hiding and ran towards Peter bellowing their death cry. All three had one purpose…kill the pale faced menace. Within Peter a firestorm ignited as he stood waiting for his enemies to come to him. He couldn't wait to rip their screaming souls from their bodies. It never occurred to him to question the whereabouts of his guards, nor did the thought cross his mind to signal for them. Peter attacked. After disarming the man that reached him first, Peter grabbed him by the tunic and stared into his eyes. The man never saw anything so frightening. Standing nose to nose, Peter slit his throat and tossed him away like foul rubbish. The second man was stabbed between the eyes, but he did not fall before he felt the warm release of his own urine.

The last waited his turn. He was a tall, mighty oak of a man. Impressively thick and solid, cords of muscles rivaled all in his company. His eyes followed Peter as he wore a casual smirk. Eyes of steel fully dilated, intent and focused on the king who he knew was destined to die by his sword. But like all mighty trees they fall…hard. As he lay in shock and disbelief, he felt the hot breath of the insane king in his ear. "Where. Are. They?" Peter ground out.

Too busy whimpering, the man nick named, the Destroyer, couldn't answer Peter's question. A sudden shift happened within the king that it was almost audible; he smiled. "I'm going to ask you a question and you're going to answer." Peter wiped the sweat off the man's forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. "All right?" he said calmly. "My siblings, no doubt you know who they are, or you wouldn't be out here trying to kill me. Where are they? A fair skinned, handsome boy and two of the most beautiful girls you have ever seen. Where, where would you say they are?"

Scared witless, Destroyer didn't answer, but it was a mistake that he immediately regretted. With Peter's boot pressing his head into the ground, the man screamed as he felt the sharp tip of Rhindon cut deep into his spine. "Where are my siblings? Tell me! No, wake up!" Peter slapped the man back to full consciousness. "You will not die until you have told me what I want to know," Peter promised as he severed another open nerve. The man screamed for mercy.

"Mercy? Mercy? Did you have mercy on my subjects when you hacked them to pieces? Did you have mercy when you made their children orphans? What of my siblings? Did you harm them? Did you show them any mercy? TELL ME!"

"I didn't touch them!" Destroyer screamed through the excruciating pain.

"You will not rest if you do not tell me what I want to know, I promise to hunt and torment you for eternity. I…I" Peter's vision began to spin out of control as he became incoherent. Searing flames consumed him as his thirst craved water more than blood. Hot, he was so hot. All went dark.

"Go, send for Oreius, the king is regaining consciousness!" said the physician. The Squirrel in his joy ran as fast as he could, shouting the message along the way. Great sighs of relief moved throughout the camp like a wave, reaching Oreius before the messenger could.

"There, there, Your Majesty," said the physician when Peter instantly grabbed him by the throat. "All is well now that you've broken the fever. You gave us quite a scare the past three days," said the Faun.

Peter looked around and found he was in his tent. The royal Narnian colors darkened his room, but he was able to see Rhindon lay nearby. He slowly released the physician, unsure of his own mind.

"Here drink this, it will make you feel better. Wait, now nice and slow. You wouldn't want that to come back up. You've done enough of that all ready."

"The man, what happened to that man? Did he say where they are holding my family? Did he die?"

"What man?" asked the physician looking curiously at the king. "We haven't seen anyone for days. The scouts have been out on patrol but they haven't found any clues yet. I'm sure it was just a dream. Don't you worry Your Majesty, all will be well soon. We'll find them. Now lay back and…" Peter dropped his bowl of medicinal tea when the physician gasped. They both looked at the sword blade that was protruding from the Fauns chest.

Destroyer stood there bloodied with a nasty smile as he pulled his sword out of the Faun. "Remember me?" he said before he grabbed the king by the tunic, raising his blade high above Peter's head and…

"There, there Your Majesty. That's it, wake up. Give me a wet cloth he still burning up," said the Dwarf physician to a Hare. "Tell Oreius he's awake."

"What is going on," Peter croaked as the physician exchanged the cool cloth on his forehead.

The doctor was sympathetic as he shushed the king, delicately pushing him back onto the pillow. He was deeply concerned as he looked at the whites of Peter's eyes. Well, they were supposed to be white. He placed his ear on the king's chest, furrowing his brows even more. The decaying smell that was coming from Peter frightened him. He didn't think he would make it another day. "Everything is fine now that you've awaken. All is well and complete," he gave the king a secretive smile. "If you can remain awake a bit more you'll see a special surprise…" The doctor was interrupted by the lift of the flap of the tent. Peter looked over to see the general enter, but was surprised to see another.

"Edmund!"

Edmund rushed to Peter with unshed tears and an unfulfilled ache to touch his big brother; something they both have been denied for a week. Peter openly cried, and in his weaken state, slowly stretched out his arms to receive his brother, his king. A hairs breath away Edmund frown as he was suddenly snatched away, clawing and digging his fingers into the ground as he was pulled out of the tent. Peter screamed, "Nooooo, Edmund," and fought his way to…

"Please, Your Majesty, wake up!" A stinging slap across Peter's face silenced his cry as his eyes flew open. Breathing out of control, achy eyes and muscles, Peter took in his surroundings with caution. "Are you real?"

The Dwarf looked on in sympathy. "Yes, Your Majesty. I am very real. Please forgive the slap, you left me no choice." His brows drew downward as he placed a cool cloth on Peter's forehead, "I've always wanted to be in the chronicles, but I never thought I'd be known as the Dwarf who slapped the High King. What a legacy," he sighed in disgust.

Just then Oreius stepped in and started when he saw Peter awake. "Don't just stand there, come in. Has that overgrown parakeet come back yet? He's still running a fever and looks like the walking dead, cept he aint walking."

"No, Gryphon Baor hasn't been seen." Oreius found it hard to walk further in, so overcome with relief and thanksgiving. He slowly approached Peter who looked at him with confusion. Oreius' big hands touched the king's hot cheeks and frowned. "How are you feeling?" The physician wasn't surprised by the open affection Oreius displayed. Everyone knew how the big, rough and tough general felt about the royals. He shows no mercy with the kings on the training grounds and accept no excuses. But let them get sick and his whole world grounds to a halt. Oreius never had any children of his own, but the kings and queens came very close.

"I feel like the giants used me as their favorite toy on Christmas morning." Peter groaned. "What happened to me?"

"Here, drink this. Oreius move out of the way! For someone as big as you, you are always under foot. Now Majesty, sip this slowly. Nasty stuff it is, hopefully it will help some."

Peter grimaced from the smell alone and weakly pushed it away.

"Don't give me reason to apologize later. Sip. It." the physician threatened.

Too weak to fight, and knowing full well Dacor would not feel sorry when he apologized, Peter accepted the medicinal tea. Oreius reached out to hold the bowl steady when Peter began to shake. It was an awkward position for the Centaur because the bed was too low, but no task was too small for Oreius concerning his king.

"This is vile, Doctor! Can't you ever come up with something that tastes decent?" asked Peter as he tried to suck the taste off his tongue.

"The next time you think about doing something foolish that will put your life in danger trust me, you will think about this and reconsider your actions. _This_ will be waiting for you every time. It hasn't worked yet, but I'll keep administering it till it does," said the physician as he took the bowl away and exited the tent.

"When we get back to the Cair," said Peter weakly, "Put him in the dungeon."

Oreius smiled as he shook his head. "Well, your sense of humor has returned.

"I'm not kidding," said Peter. "What happened, Oreius?"

Oreius' expression turned grave. "As we ran for our lives the Hzans were right behind us; to close for comfort. We escaped and did not stop running until our legs couldn't carry us anymore. Larger soldiers picked up their smaller brothers and they ran; no one was left behind. When we were at a safe distance we all stopped to gather our senses. That is when you fell to the ground in a fit of convulsions." Oreius relived the tale as he recounted the days of not knowing if his king will live or die.

*.*.*.*.

"Your Majesty!" A Mongoose screamed. "Dacor come quick!"

Peter's eyes rolled back, his tongue curled towards the back of his throat as his entire body shook uncontrollably. Dacor ran towards Peter with his medical bag and pushed everyone out of his way. "WHAT HAPPENED?" he screamed, accusing no one in particular and yet everyone.

"WHAT IS IT DACOR? WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM?" demanded Oreius.

The physician ignored him as he tried to help Peter. "You, yes you, come here. Hold him. GENTLEY NOW!" he yelled as he held Peter's tongue down with a depressor. "Get me some water, he's burning up! Set up his tent. Oreius get moving, you're in charge here do I have to do everything!" Everyone nerves were on edge to see their king in such an unexpected state. The responsibilities of unpacking the king's tent and setting up camp proved to be quite a task. Every soldier was worried. They would pause within the hustle and bustle of setting up camp and looked to see if the king lived. The convulsions had stopped, but the king was unconscious and his fever spiked higher.

"Oh no," Those close enough who heard stopped in their tracks.

"What is it, Dracor?" asked Oreius, his brows drawn in worry.

"Look here, on his back. There is a half inch cut. He was barely grazed by a Hzan tooth. You know how deadly that is. Help me get him into the tent. I hope he last through the night."

*.*.*.*.

"You've been plagued by nightmares, fighting imaginary enemies for the past three days," Oreius informed.

Peter swallowed weakly and hesitantly asked, "Oreius, is my brother here?"

Oreius looked away. He couldn't bear to look at the king, the indescribable hope in his fevered eyes were unbearable.

"He was just a dream then…again," Peter looked away.

"Baor was sent ahead to find them. We need Queen Lucy's cordial. We are hoping it will fight off the effects of the poison. Because you were infected with so little it might work. Had it been half an inch more or deeper…praise Aslan you are alive.

"I have my own," whispered Peter. "Lucy refused to let Edmund and I out of her sight without a small vial of it since day one."

"What? Peter!" Oreius stood stunned as countless memories flashed before his eyes of Peter or Edmund lay injured. "We will disgust this later. Where is it?"

Before he could answer Peter fainted.

* * *

**Tbc (^_^)**


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.

**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

No Slash What So Ever

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

* * *

The Taste of Murder Chapter 8

"A messenger has been spotted! He is fast approaching," called a palace guard, whose job was deliberately to watch the skies for any sign of a messenger or returning party. The _call_ was passed on until it was whispered in Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Fox's ears.

Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Fox looked at each other anxiously. Welcoming the news, yet afraid of it. Why was there a messenger and not the rescued party themselves? Was the High King successful, did he fail? Preposterous! They will just have to wait, impatient, but wait they shall.

"I hope no one saw the messenger, or all of Narnia will know we've heard news," said Mr. Fox.

"Yes, and they will be on our doorstep within the hour," replied Tumnus, rearranging his scarf nervously. A Lieutenant marched right smartly to the two waiting officials and delivered the message. He immediately returned the way he came, but secretly wished he could stay to hear the news. He loved and missed the royal family. Queen Lucy never forgot his birthday, and Queen Susan was especially kind to his mother when she was on her deathbed.

Mr. Tumnus sat next to Mr. Fox in order to read the letter together. With nervous fingers, he broke the seal and they proceeded to read…

Greetings Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Fox,

I send you a message of grave news. We have not as of yet found our sovereigns, but we believe we are on the right path. We've found some of those responsible for the death of our Narnian Brothers and Sisters, and they have been properly dealt with by the High King himself.

There has been a setback in our pursuit by three days. Brace yourselves for what I am about to tell you. The king, against all counsel, journeyed to the accursed land of the Hzans. I will spare you the gruesome details only to say our king was victorious and lives—so far. He is suffering from a scratch delivered by one of the vile creatures, and lay sick these past three days with fever, nightmares and delusions. For the first time, I was able to speak with him today. Before the king fell into unconsciousness again, he informed me of a vile of cordial Queen Lucy gave him. We have yet to find it. We have looked through his personal belongings, and the few in our company, without success. Baor has flown ahead to see if he might find clues that would lead us to the queen and the cordial.

I do not need to tell you the ramification if word reached the ears of Narnians about the Hzans, therefore this letter is to be treated as an official document for your eyes, Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Fox, only. Do not speak of the kings set back. No doubt you two are having to keep the citizens at peace and at home instead of joining the search still. We will come home victorious; remind all of Narnia who put our kings and queens on the throne. Aslan will not abandon them.

Pray for Aslan's guidance and wisdom. Pray that we will bring _all_ of our sovereigns home soon alive and well. Pray for our High King as he delivers his final judgment. He has no mercy.

In Aslan,

General Oreius

They sat stunned in the throne room. They knew the letter might not contain what they were hoping for, but they did not expect what they read, especially news of the Hzans; that alone made them involuntarily shiver. A hasty letter was written in reply and sealed. After an hour of rest, food and water, the messenger was off to find Oreius.

* * *

Greetings General,

We received your letter with a heavy heart and was hoping to deliver good news to the citizens. As you have predicted, we are constantly defusing explosive temperaments that are ready to lead an army to rescue the kings and queens.

News of the Hzans chills us to our bones. What would possess the king to journey to a despised land? No good could come from such a visit, and we are sure King Edmund will have plenty to say on behalf of _**all**_ Narnia!

We have increased the patrol on our borders to prevent any hostilities if our neighbors gain knowledge of our absent monarchy. We have noticed the giants are more active on their side of the border, but we are unsure if they are gathering to attack or if we are provoking them with our increased soldiers.

We will not expose the king's illness, but we will share the good news of your gaining on King Edmund and our Queens. That should placate the majority of the citizens.

As for the vile of cordial, I, Tumnus, was with the queen when she prepared it and delivered it to the kings. Look underneath the king's saddle. It is a small vile wrapped in a sturdy grey cloth that is attached underneath the saddle. It was placed there so our enemies would not find it. No doubt the king has forgotten about it until you mentioned it. As you know, our kings would rather suffer along with their fellow soldiers than to take a drop of the cordial. We pray Aslan will allow the cordial to work and our sovereigns will be returned to us soon.

May Aslan be with you always,

Mr. Tumnus  
Mr. Fox


	9. Chapter 9

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.

**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

No Slash What So Ever

Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

* * *

The Taste of Murder Chapter 9

Oreius found the king's saddle located in a corner of the king's tent. The doctor watched in hope as Oreius slowly turned the saddle over. Sure enough, toward the back where it wouldn't rub against the horse, was a small cloth with something intricately sewn inside…the vile.

"Careful," said the doctor, his hands mirroring Oreius' as he detached the cloth.

"Scissors," spoke Oreius softly, barely breathing. "What are we doing Dacor? It's survived all this time it will not break."

"Yes, but we also don't want it to spill. If she put in one drop it may have evaporated," said Dacor with bushy brows drawn together. "Right?"

Oreius ignored Dacor's gloomy declaration of doom, and carefully cut the needlepoint work that housed the _love_ of a queen. As he slowly peeled layers of dark, grey cloth back, the vile came into view. It sat like a jewel of hope, just one drop, to save the king in a dire situation. Hands that could wield a claymore, snap a neck, or instantly kill, delicately delivered the vile to the doctor. There was no need for words when their eyes met. Oreius gently held Peter up by the back of his neck, allowing his head to fall back. The move caused his mouth to slightly open. The doctor looked nervous when he broke the seal to guide the vile between the kings lips.

Bothe the general and Dacor waited with baited breath. They've seen the quick effects of the cordial in the past and hoped it worked the same against the Hzan's poison. After thirty seconds the fever raged on…forty…forty-five, sweat continued to make a trail, fifty, sixty…" It's been a minute, Oreius. No change," said the doctor.

"No, give it time, it will work," said Oreius as he tenderly traced Peter's brow.

They waited.

Dacor grunted after another minute with no change.

The two could practically hear the clock ticking away the seconds where there was none.

"It's been three minutes Oreius, maybe we should…"

"No! Give him time. Not only is the cordial fighting, but so is he."

"So you're the doctor now are ye?" came the cynical reply.

Oreius stood ominously to his full height, daring the doctor to utter another word. Dacor recognized the sign of family members and friends who refused to believe the inevitable of a loved one too sick to carry on. The physician nodded his head in sympathy and exited the tent into fresh air and silvery moonlight. Most of the camp was asleep, which he was relieved to see. He wasn't in the mood to answer any questions about the king's condition, especially to the energetic squirrels.

After refreshing himself with a bit of food and water, _and_ _secretly a quick swig of a more powerful drink_, Dacor felt he could face Oreius again. Actually, he mentally prepared himself for battle. An hour had passed since he administered the cordial, and the doctor preferred Oreius to come to terms sooner than later. Dacor adjusted his clothing, smoothed down his beard, stood straight and tall—for a Dwarf, and marched toward the tent. However, the good doctor stopped in his track when he saw Peter step out of the tent before he could pull the flap back.

The physician stuttered at the sight of his king. His king, who seemed to be free of fever, studied him with clear blue eyes and breathed in deeply. "Dacor!" said Peter with a half hearted smile, resting his hand on the physicians shoulder. "It's good to see you again, thank you for all you've done. Oreius told me you've spent three days caring for me, but I don't thank you for that tea. That I do remember throughout all those horrific nightmares and hallucinations.

Dacor turned his head and coughed while he secretly wiped away a tear of joy. He roughly cleared his throat as he placed his fist on his hips, looking steady up at the king. "So you decided to wake up I see. Well it's about time…Your Majesty. Now get back to bed. I won't hear any cheek from you until morning, so off with you!"

Peter smiled at him, took in another good lungful of fresh air and went back into his tent. Doctor's orders ruled over all who were sick, even a king, and it was in Peter's favor that he remembered so.

Dacor harrumphed as he literally tucked Peter in tightly where there would be no escape. He fussed about the tent clearing used cloths, water bowls and a tiny vile. "Oreius, you are always underfoot. As you can see he's well, and won't break. Now get out, you'll see him in the morning with everyone else," Dacor said roughly with a wink. Oreius turned to Peter to bid him good-night, but the king was already asleep. "I promise not to leave him, Oreius, not until I see how he's doing in the morning," the doctor said gently. Oreius nodded his head and looked once more on his High King. He thanked Aslan for answering his fervent prayers as he walked out of the tent.

The next morning was met with cheers and tears as the Narnians welcomed their king back amongst the living. A hearty breakfast was made to celebrate, but not for the king, he had to sip broth and eat bread, by order of a cantankerous Dwarf who called himself a doctor. A Falcon was sent back to Cair Paravel with glad tidings and a special note from the king himself, stating all is well with him.

Another day to recuperate was all the doctor could ask. To request the king to delay anymore than that would be suicide.

Peter was brought up to date on events he missed. Tracks that have since been washed away, but remembered by scouts, were described in detail. He will himself investigate once he was free from Dacor. The fire in his blood never dissipated, only simmered, but he felt it the demon lurking, stirring the fire.

Oreius saw it happen. For a moment he stood in the eye of the storm, clear and beautiful was Peter, but now he braced himself to meet total destruction. This Galenor measured against the dead white witch, deserving of death, but Oreius couldn't help feel sorry for him. _His_ will not be a quick death. He took the wrong children this time and will suffer like he has never suffered before.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

The next morning Yori rapped on the door before opening it. He didn't like the piercing, cold look in Edmund's eyes at their last meeting, and felt it was a deathly mistake to surprise him by barging into the room. He never met a boy so dangerous and never wished to again…but then again, there was Peter. He may not have a choice.

"Hello, is all well?" he asked before he cautiously pushed his head through. With apprehension, he looked directly at Susan's bandaged arm.

"Yes, Yori thank you. You may want to remove this bucket so you won't get into trouble, you left it here last night," said Edmund, standing next to his sisters, obviously wound tight ready to strike at a moments notice.

"I will Your Majesty, but first take this bucket of fresh water, and I have some fruit I picked from the forest. I re-visited the places you went to a few days ago. I even found more shrooms. There isn't any more meat of course, and I doubt Galenor would allow you out to hunt more game. He's in a bit of a snit as you might imagine," he said as he exchanged the old torch with a fresh-lit one. "It turned out that Dananal told those who were standing guard that Galenor wanted them to switch. It's my guess he wanted revenge for Rundell. They were very close, but no one knows exactly how close," he blushed.

"He did mention her," informed Edmund as he finished off a berryberry fruit.

Yori lost his train of thought as he saw Susan's pink tongue peek out to lick the juice off the corner of her delicate mouth. He often imagined kissing her soft…his line of vision became instantly full of Edmund.

Yori immediately felt his heart plunge down into his boots. There was no other explanation why his heart felt as if it stopped, or that draining feeling in his chest. He couldn't move and his arms tingled. He was going to die.

"EDMUND PEVENSIE YOU UNHAND THAT BOY RIGHT NOW!" demanded Lucy.

Those who guarded the closed door on the other side took a step back, preparing to defend themselves.

Frightened to death, Yori jerked and pulled against pure steel that gripped his tunic under his neck. His eyes were wide with fright, his breath caught in his throat, choking him. He escaped Edmund's grip, actually he was released as the youngest queen commanded, by Edmund who shook in anger. "I have had enough!" the bloodcurdling words rose from deep within Edmund's chest; his fist shook midair as his eyes followed Yori out the door.

The time had come. They've seen the signs for days. Susan and Lucy knew not to utter one word until Edmund was in control of himself again. Everyone had a breaking point, and the Queens of Narnia knew just how far the kings could be pushed before they became a living nightmare.

The sisters sat together meekly as possible, barely breathing, barely moving, until the inevitable pressure building in their brother had a chance to explode. They were not afraid of him, just _for_ him…and anyone who stepped through that door at that very moment.

The girls knew if it wasn't for their presence Edmund probably would have freed himself days ago or at least tried. Unfortunately, because of them, he wouldn't make a move until the condition was just to his liking…unquestionably safe. That window was now closed because of Dananals murder attempt. They were watched too closely now.

It didn't matter there were three now on guard, whatever sounds came out of that room all refused to open that door. Especially after the condition Yori was in when he _ran_ out, he looked as if he was eye to eye with death itself. The dead bodies still burned in their mind's eye as they stood in the watered down blood from the room. The fact that their cohorts were dead did not disturb them; more riches with three less anyhow. But the children, now _they_ were disturbing, their existence was a reason to fear. How did they kill three men without possessing weapons? None thought to check them and who would?

_**NnNnNnNn**_

After some time, hesitant footsteps moved toward the sisters who found comfort and strength in each other. A hand tilted both their chins up while a thumb brushed their cheek. "Forgive me?" Both girls launched themselves at their remorseful, and again rational brother. All three held tight to each other and hope.

"Oh Ed, are you alright now?" asked Susan, as she held on to her brother.

Lucy couldn't help the hot flow of tears that brimmed over. It was painful to see him that way, their loving protector. She tried to speak, but couldn't. The words wouldn't come. Edmund held her tighter in understanding.

"It's alright, I'm alright now," he encouraged. Five minutes later, he had to basically pry his sisters from around his waist and sat them down on their crate.

"Oh, Ed, Yori, you scared him half to death. He's our only ally," said Lucy. Kneeling before them with his eyes closed tight, he held a kiss against their joined hands still held in his. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she whispered.

"It's alright, Lu. I am grateful for everything Yori has done, it's just…"

Susan kissed softly him on his bent head, "Shhh Edmund. Your nerves are raw. Come, lay down and rest." Susan guided Edmund's head down on her lap while she ran her fingers through his dark hair. She'd seen Peter do it a number of times to calm Edmund down at the end of a stressful day, it worked every time.

Eyes closed, Edmund felt a feather light kiss on his cheek. "I love you, Edmund," he heard Lucy whisper.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

"Curse Dananal, he cost me three men!" Galenor raged in another room with only Manwen for company. "I want these little maggots off my hands and my pockets filled! Where is Carson? He should have returned by now."

"Well, we traveled a great deal to get here. He'll come…that is…" Manwen's voice trailed off.

"That is what?" asked Galenor sarcastically.

"That is if he got away." The two men stood looking at each other from across the room. Both understood, but neither wished to voice the unspoken.

"I hate those children," said Galenor defeated as he slumped into a ragged chair. "I hate them, hate them, hate them."

Manwen sat across from him and said, "Well, I found out what happened earlier. Dananal told Hamar and Jenkell that you said to switch with them, that you wanted three guarding the door instead of two. I guess he wanted revenge for Rundell's death more than filling his pockets.

Galenor chair broke into pieces when it hit the wall behind him. "We all miss Rundell, she was worth a hundred of them mangy mutts put together, but…" A heap of expletives spewed from Galenor's mouth as he kicked the wall. "This is a real mess!"

_**NnNnNnNn**_

The forest was filled with fog on the day Peter and his small army set out. It was quiet, no birdsong, no whirlings of bugs. The eerie scenery fit his mood quite well as he searched for anything unusual. Scouts went out ahead, but haven't returned with any good news in two hours.

Was it Aslan or just luck that the king saw something unusual on the forest floor? A flower. There were a variety of wild flowers about, different colors and scents. But this flower, this particular flower was a Narnian flower; Majestic, exotic, breathtaking…Susan's. Scenes of Susan flashed through Peter's mind when he deeply inhaled the scent; her sweet laughter over tea, the daily kisses she had for her sister, twirling in a field of flowers with her hair about her shoulders carefree. That particular flower was placed in her hair by Edmund, who since he was a baby, played in its silkiness.

If the ground could feel the hot rage within the king it would have shook and split open. That flower unlocked a shock wave of rage in Peter that none had ever seen. His sibling's captors would die at their own hands if they knew what horrific revenge the High King of Narnia had in store for them.

Sunbeams pierced through the forest, burning the fog into more of a finer mist. It was enough to uncover the man who ran with confidence. Omer tried his luck to be unguarded since there had been no signs of anyone in the woods for days. He was meticulous in his search day and night for anyone seeking him out. So, on he ran; his lungs burned, and his muscles ached as he pushed them to the limit. He remembered the long trek it took to get to the far off land, and doubling back to reach the hideout, but it was a forest. A forest where all the trees looked alike, every bush and blade of grass sort of blended into a nice ball of…green. He was lost for days, but now had the confidence he was headed in the right direction.

Poor Omer, he was the most unfortunate man...that day.

He halted. He thought he heard something or someone behind him. Omer decided to turn right and ran as fast as he could, but…he heard a twig break before him. Squatting as low as possible Omer stilled in the summer heat. He couldn't hear anything other than the hard thump, thump, thump of his heart. He was careful, watching for days with only the wind for company. He wondered if he was imagining things as his eyes wildly searched the forest. It was pure torture to stand there while his eyes stung from his sweat. He decided to run left, back tracing his steps to safety. He pushed himself, he didn't allow anything to stand in his way as he jumped, flipped and zigzagged his way across the forest floor.

He heard it for sure that time. Leaves crunched, branches swished, and twigs broke, not only behind him, but to the left and right of him. He turned and ran faster. He refused to be caught, not by that nightmare. / It wasn't my fault Galenor took the wrong children. He promised me it would be an easy job, well it wasn't. Thought of getting a taste of the eldest girl's lips for compensation, but her hot tempered wretch of a brother was always aware. Well, forget them all. I'll be free once I get out of these woods. /

His next thought was cut short as a blinding white light exploded in his head. Either Omer face ran into Peter's gloved fist, or Peter's fist slammed into Omer's face, either way Omer was laying flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

Rhindon services were required again as it held the misfortunate man on the ground. Omer looked from the point of Rhindon and up the blade to its master with the cold dead eyes.

"I didn't touch them!"

"That is most annoying. Right before the others died, they uttered the same thing. I don't want to hear your weak confessions. Of course you didn't touch them; my brother would have killed you if you tried."

Omer took a good look at who held a sword to his throat.

What happened next was unexpected by both parties. Omer laughed. He laughed good to the point of tears. "Is this it? You are just a boy with a few pets, well trained pets too to herd me towards you. That was a good trick to scare me into running this way. Now let me up you little…"

"Where are my brother and sisters?" said Peter, the point of Rhindon rest at the bottom of Omer throat. He stared unwavering at the man who suddenly became defiantly quite. Omer raised his chin, daring Peter. "Are you expecting me to run you through? What, and walk around all day with the stench of your blood on my boots? No, this will not be quick. Ah yes, I'm going to have fun with you." Omer was suddenly paralyzed.

A subtle move by Peter signaled for Oreius while unreadable, ice blue eyes chilled the kidnapper to the core. For the first time in his life Omer laid eyes on a mighty Centaur. He shook uncontrollably, afraid of the monster that oozed with unbridled power and halted beside him. At any moment Omer expected a powerful kick to the head that would end his life most painfully. He gasped when he heard the boy king speak to the creature and received an answer in the common tongue. Now he understood the gruesome stories. He _believed_ Peter was the king of monsters that walked the earth, and the children he sought… Omer looked quickly to the right when he saw a Faun approach and screamed himself into a dead faint.

"What just happened?" asked Peter.

Oreius and Anmor shrugged their shoulders in bewilderment.

Peter kicked at the man's shoulder, but there was no response. The crease between his brows was a mix of confusion and frustration. "Is he dead?"

"He still breathes," said Oreius.

"Good. Do you have it Anmor?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Anmor, giving Peter a small sack that moved on its own.

Peter took his water skin and poured it on the man's face. "Wake up, I don't have all day! No, no, no. tsk, tsk, tsk. You lie right where you are," he said replacing Rhindon. "I don't know why you fainted; maybe you are suffering from a lack of a deficiency. No matter, you will not live long enough to rectify that."

Omer couldn't stop shaking; he couldn't get enough air through his nose, but was too scared to open his mouth. There he was on the ground lying at the feet of a boy, a child compared to his years, afraid. Tears fell from his eyes in shame.

Peter remained silent, giving the man a chance to comfort himself as he watched. Peter's imposing presence unnerved the man more when he crouched next him. The king's vacant eyes disturbed him more than the creatures that stood near. "It has been a week since my siblings have been stolen from me. You stole. from. me."

Omer swallowed thickly as the sweat rolled into his ears and hair. He refused to look at those eyes again, and turned his attention to the sky that peaked through the leaves of the trees.

"Obviously you don't have anyone to love, you couldn't possibly. No one who can honestly love would steal the gifts that Aslan gave me. Aslan," he whispered, his eyes softened as they trailed off into the distance. Omer's whimper caught Peter's attention again…and the demon.

Peter took the brown bag clutched in his hand and spilled the contents on Omer's chest. "Do you know what these are? No, you wouldn't know because you are not from around here. Let me tell you about these _centipedes_. They are not the centipedes you see every day. They don't live in my land, they are from here and I am most grateful. Oh look, they've started." Omer looked down to see short, fat centipedes rise up, their red antennae rigorously moving, guiding the creatures towards his face. "No doubt you can see the black claws, very poisonous. Oh no, no lie still, they'll only grip your tunic anyway. You can't shake them off." Omer moved anyway, but Rhindon bit him in the neck. "Don't move," Peter smiled.

The creatures sought the moister it craved as it moved its body one segment at a time. Omer screamed with his mouth closed, pleading with the dead eyed king who stood over him. He tried to shake the creatures off but Rhindon bit him again much harder. Not satisfied with the obvious entrance, feeling the moister there, the centipedes moved forward and gained entrance to Omer's flaring nostrils. They were obviously too big, but they forced themselves through anyway. Omer screamed as he experienced the fire that ripped through his sinuses, making room for the rest of the pest to enter through his mouth. These wiggling creatures made their way to the back of Omer's throat, gagging him. With armor like plates, the centipedes began digging and pushing towards their goal, their source of survival…his heart. There they will mate, lay eggs and die, leaving their hatchlings to dig their way out.

"You took what belongs to me. Now you have a taste of my agony." Peter turned away. "Oreius, let's move. It's time to find the rest. Peter walked away listening to the gurgling sounds of Omer choking on his own blood.

* * *

TBC

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to pmbs1992 who is highly allergic to cliffhangers. **(^_^)**


	10. Chapter 10

Title: The Taste of Murder  
Author: Rolletti  
This story takes place during the Golden Age.

**Ages:** Peter 18. Susan: 17, Edmund 15, Lucy 13

No Slash What So Ever  
Disclaimer: Yep, I do not own any part of C.S. Lewis' works, and I'm still regrettably poor.

* * *

The Taste of Murder Chapter 10

There was a hesitant knock at the door before it opened slowly. No one appeared or spoke. Edmund stood in front of his sisters rigid and cold, an ominous figure whose presence seemed to fill the room.

"It's me. It's Yori." The voice was barely heard as it shook in uncertainty.

Hopeful, Lucy looked up at Edmund taking her place beside him. He remained silent and ever watchful of the vacant door. "Ed?" she whispered.

He glanced at his youngest sister and back at the door without expression. Seconds ticked by without a word from Edmund, and the girls stood still in anticipation. The silence was deafening as they waited for Edmund to speak, unsure of what to expect from him. The night before he refused to speak of Yori or their situation, but Lucy could tell his mind was working, planning.

Both girls jumped when Edmund said, "Enter Yori." His voice rung loud and clear, but was neither threatening nor cordial. He continued to face the door, every muscle taught like a new bowstring.

The guards watched Yori lick his dry lips and wipe his clammy palms on his tunic. He couldn't move and they didn't blame him. In addition, the three men were genuinely relieved they didn't have to go in themselves. They watched as he inhaled a deep breath of confidence, and saw said confidence vanish when he exhaled.

The girls looked at each other in confusion when Yori didn't appear. Lucy tilted her head and began to walk towards the door, but gasped when Edmund grabbed her hand and brought her back to his side. One look from him silenced any protest. So they waited.

With extreme caution, the door opened enough to allow Yori to peak humbly through. He entered baring gifts…breakfast with a fresh pail of water. He was too afraid to take his eyes off Edmund, but at the same time he didn't want to remain in eye contact just in case he saw it as a challenge. Deciding the humble approach was best, Yori dropped his eyes and proceeded with care. The last thing he wanted was to literally lose his head.

"Hello, Yori!" said Lucy with her hand clutched in Edmund's. In addition to her greeting, she smiled extra bright for him in the way of encouragement. It was obvious he faced great difficulty approaching her brother.

It would seem Yori's voice abandoned him while the knot in his throat grew. Sweat began to pop out on his forehead at an alarming rate, almost as if someone was spraying a mist of water on him by the seconds.

"It's alright Yori, your safe," said Susan by Edmund's side. She hated to see him grip by fear, and wished she could approach him without hearing Edmund's death cry. Therefore, for Yori's safety, she decided to calm his fears from where she stood.

"I…I brought you supplies for today," he said, placing the bucket of water as close as he dared get, which wasn't very close at all…as a matter of fact, it was close to the door where he stood which prove he didn't get very far with his approach. "I," he swallowed thickly. "I've made my decision."

"About what?" Lucy asked curiously.

"About leaving before your eldest brother arrive. Like you said, I think my chances are greater if I stayed rather than in the forest," he glanced at Edmund. "I hope. That is if you will still remember me. Before you answer that, I would like to apologize for my actions yesterday. I was disrespectful, although unintentional, to Her Majesty, and I shall never make such a mistake again."

Only Edmund could accept the apology since he was the one who wanted to rip out Yori's throat. But the only thing he said was, "I thank you for the water and fruit, Yori. You should take the other two buckets that you left yesterday so you won't get into any trouble with Galenor."

Both girls silently breathed in relief, grateful for that much. They thanked Yori for everything, offering gentle smiles as he humbly, yet quickly walked out the door.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

The forest began to get steamy. Everyone kept the sweat from falling and stinging their eyes by mopping their faces the best way they could. That was unfortunate for the man who was on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. The High King was already out of sorts to put it mildly, but the heat was relentless which helped push him beyond his insanity. If he was home, he and his siblings would probably be at the beach playing water games with the Mermaids and Mermen. Or he and Edmund would be escaping a boring luncheon arranged by Susan for dignitary's mothers and their love sick daughters, to find a nice fishing hole that would eventually find them swimming and laughing.

Susan's crushed, wilted flower gave off a hint of sweet scent as Peter twirled it between his fingers. He eyed the man who was caught and forced to his knees before him. The man's eyes were hard, hateful, but Peter saw through that. He had that same look of all those who participated in making his life as cold as the grave his murdered friends were buried in…fear. As well he should.

"Let's get to the point shall we? We both know I'm to kill you, but first I want to know where is my fam…" the man spit in Peter's face silencing him. The surrounding Animals began to move in as one when Peter halted their steps with an upraised hand. Never removing his eyes from the man, the king swiped the spittle from his face. He was purely terrifying when he rose from the log.

The kidnapper began to breathe deeper and faster as Peter began to circle him. He tried without success to stop trembling, feeling Peter's eyes on him like a bird of prey ready to strike. "I promise, you will _beg_ me to kill you by the time I'm through."

"Please, you look like a nice boy. You don't want to do this."

"No, I don't, but since you can't give me my family it will be…gratifying," he smiled wickedly.

Stinging reality shook the stranger as sharp blue eyes burned into him. It was too late when he came to the realization the stories were true. The pale king cold, dead eyes seem to see right past him. He desperately wanted to turn around, just to satisfy himself that the king was not looking at anything behind him. He dared not to. Only a fool would turn his back on one such as him. The stranger thought it odd that the king didn't look like his siblings with that strange pale hair. However, he saw that same warrior disposition of the younger king, the protector of his sisters.

Without a second thought the man jumped up and ran. He will not die in agony like his counterparts. He ran as fast as he could, aware of the crazed king and his Animals hot on his heels. He ran and ran as if there were plenty of earth beneath his feet shouting the name, "Ariona," as he purposefully jumped off the sixty foot ravine. Those in pursuit stood on the edge of the chasm and watched his body break upon the rocks.

Who was Ariona? That is a question that will remain a mystery.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

Eoaner stood guard in the forest surrounding the hideout. He counted his treasure, basically spending it before he had time to gain it. The guard stretched from boredom, he couldn't wait for his period of patrolling to end. The only pleasure he'd gotten from standing there was to see that beautiful pale creature with the beautiful lips walk silently near him with bow and arrow in hand. He stood impossible still ogling her, assured she wasn't aware of his presence. However, he gasped when she turned her head and looked directly at him. What chilled his spine most was her eerie brother that stood behind her watching him as well.

That was days ago. Eoaner stood at attention when he saw three men carried out and buried. He wondered what that was all about when a crow came walking impossibly close. He looked around his feet for a heavy rock. Slowly, he didn't want to disturb the bird, he knelt and picked up a few rocks instead. He took aim and threw a rock while grinning, sending the crow away squawking as it took offense. Eoaner's grin disappeared when the irritating, black bird came back cawing, ruffling its wings. The guard fingered another rock, closed one eye to take better aim and bull's-eye! The crow flew away cawing its complaint for the unjust treatment. "That'll showem. Stupid bird."

As he displayed his rotten teeth in satisfaction, Eoaner turned around to carry on with his duty, deeply loyal to Galenor. Before he knew it he was confronted by two more crows, one squawked at him while the other pecked at the ground. "Come on. Come a little closer and I'll give you what I gave your dumb friend," he said as he picked up a heavier rock. He took aim as the two crows watched him in earnest. "Yeah, you messengers of death, you just stay right there…" He reared back and threw the stone with the intent to kill. Both birds flew just out of reach of the blow and flew back where they previously stood. That's when Eoaner noticed three more crows landed closer on the opposite side of the first two. Then four more landed on the branches over his head. "What's going on here," he said suspiciously, all humor gone. Ten more set of wings gleamed in the sunlight as they landed on the low branches of the trees surrounding the area. Eoaner couldn't help but feel as if the birds where surrounding him on purpose. Sweat began to pour down his sunken face as his eyes quickly switched from one bird to the next. More crows surrounded him. He turned around and around, feeling trapped, closed in as…"

"What are doing, idiot? Serve you right if that head hunter snuck up on you and slit your throat! You're supposed to be keepin' watch. You didn't even hear me coming up the path! What're doing anyhow?"

"Are you blind man, look at all these crows!"

"You're daft, what crows? Go on, your shift is over!" said the man who relieved him. "Idiot," he called after Eoaner who ran quickly as he searched the skies.

An hour later Eoaner returned. "Peezom, I have some fruit I took from that imbecile whose always slobbering over the eldest wench. Peezom, where are you? Whose slacking now!" he called. "Peezom. Peezom where are…Oh no," stood Eoaner in shock. His friend's body lay dead on the ground bloodied with his eyes pecked out. He gasped and turned to run only to find a black cloud of shiny black wings rushing toward him. His scream was silenced with a rock he had thrown before; it was stuffed in his mouth. Eoaner suffered the same fate of Peezom.

"Eoaner, what's wrong? Eoaner was that you?" shouted the closest guard. "Eoan…" his throat was slit from ear to ear. Grasping his throat, he was convinced the High King had come and was invisible. There was no way to give warning.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

There was a loud knock at the door before Yori was pushed through. Galenor saw to that just in case Edmund or the girls were standing near ready kill anyone that stepped through. Yori kept plenty of distance between himself, Galenor and the children. He was not interested in being associated with his uncle nor did he want to get caught in the middle of a battle between the children and Galenor. He humbly kept to himself.

Edmund stood in front of the girls poised, ready to strike. The girls themselves looked gentle, calm, and innocent, but Galenor knew better. Manwen stood near the door ready to flee, not willing to die because of the stupidity of his friend.

"Well, I see you haven't managed to kill any more of my men," said Galenor, his voice bounced off the walls of the empty room.

"Not yet," said Edmund, deflating Galenor's pompous air.

"You, wretched, good for nothing…"

"What do you want, Galenor?" said Edmund dangerously.

Edmund and Susan took a defensive step forward when they saw Galenor glance at Lucy. "I promise, you will die this day if you or any of your men touch my sister," whispered Edmund. Galenor involuntarily shivered as he felt the words drip like ice into his veins.

Not as confident as he was when he stepped into the room, Galenor looked back at the door to find Manwen gone. "I, I'll get all of my men if I have to, but I mean to take that girl for bargaining," he said, gaining back his confidence as he spoke. After shouting out a few curses, Galenor thrust his finger towards Lucy. "I mean to have that girl, you hear me boy? You can't take us all on at once."

"No, but _you_, personally will die by my bare hands. I will first break your legs so you won't waste my time running after you. Next, I will choke you and watch the light slowly drain from your eyes, making sure the smile on my face is the last thing you see." The color drained from Galenor's face.

Instantly there was a rush of wings and caws that suddenly filled the air, rushing from the hole in the ceiling. All three children looked at Galenor and smiled. It was an eerie sight.

"My brother is here," said Edmund.

_**NnNnNnNn **_

A pair of squirrels chased each other down one tree and up another, raining leaves on the ground below. Habore watched them jump from limb to limb as they made their way closer to him. The line between his eyes deepened when their chatter began to make sense.

"You, man. Make your peace with Aslan, because you stole what is most precious to Narnia and the High King."

Habore was startled, especially when he saw the eldest king before him. "Tell me where is your hideout before my sword goes through your eye, out the back of your head pinning you to the tree behind you," said Peter. The information easily slipped from the man's tongue, just as Rhindon easily sliced him in half.

The king was getting closer.

_**NnNnNnNn**_

"What do you mean he's here? I don't have time for your games you despicable…" Before Galenor could finish he heard screams from the other side of the door. The sounds of bones crushing, screams cut short, and blood splattering caused Galenor breath to hitch in his throat. Yori backed himself against the wall farthest behind the children. He'd hoped against all that was good and decent that the young king would remember him to his brother. All those he knew on the other side of the door, some decent, some plain rotten, were either dead or about to die.

Manwen fell through the door bloodied. He was clawing at his missing throat. Galenor looked at his lifelong friend with his mouth gaped open in disbelief. He could not form one word before that magnificent nightmare walked in and demanded his complete attention.

* * *

_**TBC**_ :)


End file.
